


Facets

by wilddragonflying



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Blackwall has self-esteem issues, Blowjobs, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Past Rape(not to main character), Other, Praise Kink, Sexual Content, Snowballing, Spoilers, Squirting, Threesomes, and more tags with them, chapters to come, multi-chapter, spoilers everywhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-01 21:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 50,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4034656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of a Warden with a past, a former Templar, a woman estranged from her family, and how they managed to make a family of their own.</p><p>(Will be updated as and when I finish writing. Each chapter is one of the main questlines.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wrath of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Like most of my DA:I stories, this is inspired by babbling at Sav and her blatantly encouraging my obsession.

One thing Yana was immensely grateful for after almost a decade of working with various mercenary companies was her ability to be almost immediately completely aware of her surroundings. Take right now for example: She was in a dungeon, surrounded by soldiers, all of whom were pointing swords at her. The next thing she was aware of was a dim throbbing pain in her left palm; when she glanced down, it flared, and she had to stifle a gasp of pain; Maker’s tears, that _hurt_. She was distracted from the pain by a door opening and the soldiers sheathing their weapons.

Yana felt her eyes narrow as she took in the sight of the Seeker who strode in, her expression thunderous. She walked behind Yana, bending to sneer, “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now,” into Yana’s ear before straightening. “The Conclave is destroyed, and everyone who attended is dead-- except. For. You.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the Seeker was getting at. “You think I did it,” Yana concluded, voice flat.

The Seeker’s expression twitched, and she lunged forward, snatching Yana’s wrist and lifting it to snarl, “Explain _this._ ”

“I _can’t_ ,” Yana growled, refusing to back down. “I don’t know what that is or how it got there.”

“You’re lying!”

Suddenly there was another woman in the way, keeping the Seeker from reaching for Yana. “We need her, Cassandra.”

Cassandra glanced from Yana to the other woman before sighing and deflating. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana; I will take her to the rift,” she ordered.

The other woman-- Leliana-- nodded in agreement before leaving. Cassandra walked over to Yana, unlocking the restraints before tying Yana’s wrists together with a length of rope. “What happened to the Conclave?” Yana asked as Cassandra finished tying the last knot.

Cassandra blew out a breath. “It… will be easier to show you,” she said.

Yana’s brow furrowed in confusion, getting to her feet and following the Seeker out of the building. She ignored the looks the guards and Chantry sisters gave her as she followed Cassandra; she was used to getting dirty looks. Came with the territory of being a mercenary; everyone was eager to hire them, but they hated having to.

When the doors of the Chantry were opened, Yana had to shield her eyes for a moment as she let her eyesight adjust to the new brightness. When she was able to look again, she felt her jaw drop as she took in the sight of the large green swirling… _thing_ floating in the sky.

“We call it the Breach,” Cassandra said, interrupting Yana’s thoughts. “It’s a massive rift into the world of demons. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

Yana frowned, glancing at the Breach again. “An explosion can do that?” she asked doubtfully.

“This one did,” Cassandra answered just as the Breach pulsed, fragments of material flying from it. Yana’s hand pulsed as well, stabbing pain shooting up her arm and fingers as she collapsed to the ground, curling around her hand. She was dimly aware of the Seeker dropping to her knees beside Yana. “Each time the Breach expands, your mark grows,” Cassandra explained, “and it is killing you.”

Yana sucked in a deep breath. “So where do I come in?” she asked, teeth gritted against the lingering pain.

“We need to stabilize your mark,” Cassandra answered. “There is an elven apostate out helping our soldiers; he is knowledgeable in matters of the Fade, and has helped with your mark so far. He believes that your mark may be the key to closing the Breach.”

Yana considered that a moment before sighing, “I understand.”

“Then--”

“I will help; however I can.”

“That is all we ask,” Cassandra said, helping Yana to her feet. She led the rogue through the town, hauling her past the townspeople and their hurled insults. “The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia,” Cassandra explained. “The Conclave was hers; it was the last chance for peace between mages and templars.”

“I remember what the Conclave was for,” Yana said. “But after the first talks… I don’t remember anything.”

They approached a set of gates, and on the other side was a large bridge; Cassandra stopped them just on the other side of the gates. “There will be a trial,” she said, pulling out a knife and slicing through the rope binding Yana’s wrists. “I can promise no more. But first we must focus on the Breach. Your mark must be tested on something smaller; there is a rift just up the valley.”

Yana nodded. “Weapons?” she asked.

Cassandra shook her head. “I will protect you.” Yana made a face at that; she didn’t like going unarmed.

“Please tell me that you at least found my daggers; they cost me a real pretty penny,” she said; Cassandra hesitated before nodding.

“Leliana has them; if you are proven to be innocent, then you will get them back.” She led the way to the gates on the other end of the bridge, and Yana followed.

* * *

They were able to make it to the next bridge before everything went tits up; one of the missiles from the Breach slammed through the bridge, reducing it to rubble and sending Yana and Cassandra tumbling through the air to the ground below; as Yana pushed herself to her feet, she was aware of a demon clawing its way from the ground. Cassandra leapt to her feet, drawing her sword and shield, yelling, “Stay behind me!”

That was good and all, except for the little fact that there was another demon emerging behind Cassandra, and right in front of Yana; she looked around frantically, spotting a bow and a couple of arrows nearby. Yana dove for the weapons, coming up with an arrow in hand right as the demon lunged for her; she lashed out blindly. A screech told her that she’d hit her mark; as the demon reared back the human rolled to her feet, nocking the arrow in the bow as she came up and taking aim before firing, the arrow burying itself in the demon’s eye. It let out another horrific screech before practically _melting_ into the ground, and Yana looked up to find Cassandra marching towards her, sword held out.

”Drop your weapon!” she ordered, teeth bared.

”A demon attacked me!” Yana protested, making no move to obey. “What the hell else was I supposed to do, let it kill me?”

A range of expressions crossed Cassandra’s face, eventually settling out into resignation. “You’re right,” she conceded. “You should have a weapon; I cannot protect you as I thought I could, and you should be able to protect yourself.”

Yana tucked the arrows into a quiver, slinging it over her shoulder as Cassandra turned back to her, saying, “I should remember you agreed to come willingly.”

Yana just raised an eyebrow and motioned for Cassandra to leave the way. They continued following the river; Cassandra said that it would lead them to the rift they needed to reach anyway. It wasn’t too long before they encountered more demons, and Yana realized, “They’re falling from the Breach!”

”Just kill them!” Cassandra shouted back, decapitating a shade.

They had to fight through two more groups of demons before they reached the rift; once there, there were three more shades to be killed before a bald elf was grabbing Yana’s hand and holding it to the small rift; without her doing anything, Yana felt her mark pulse and _reach_ , connecting with the rift and binding it back together; once it was closed, she yanked her hand back. “What did you do?” she asked, bewildered, as she turned towards the elf.

”I did nothing,” he said, inclining his head. “The credit is yours.”

Yana frowned, studying the faint green pattern on her palm. “You mean this,” she murmured, turning her hand this way and that to study the mark.

”Whatever magic opened the Breach also placed that mark upon your hand-- I theorized that it might be able to close the rifts, and it seems I was correct.”

Cassandra stepped up beside Yana, her expression revelationary, “Meaning it could also close the Breach itself.”

”Possibly,” the elf conceded, then turned to face Yana once again. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

”Good to know,” came from behind them, and Yana turned to see a dwarf straightening his gloves. “Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” He walked up to them, and Yana eyed him curiously. “Varric Tethras,” he said, introducing himself. “Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tagalong.” He winked at Cassandra, who made a disgusted noise.

”Hell of a crossbow you’ve got there,” Yana said, eyeing it with no little amount of envy.

Varric grinned. “Ah, isn’t she? Bianca and I have been through a lot together. And she’ll be great help in the valley.”

”Absolutely not!” Cassandra interrupted. “Your help is appreciated Varric, but--”

”Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?” Varric demanded. “Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore; you need me.” Cassandra and Varric got locked into a staring contest that Cassandra lost, breaking away with an even more disgusted noise.

As Yana watched on in amusement, the apostate stepped up to her side. “My name is Solas,” he said with a nod, “if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live.”

”He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept,’” Varric translated.

Yana turned to Solas with a smile, then. “Then I owe you my thanks,” she said with a nod of her own.

”This way, down the bank,” Cassandra called, cutting them off. “The road ahead is blocked.”

* * *

They managed to make it to the forward camp, and after a short battle against a few more demons, Yana sealed another rift. They met up with Leliana and a Chancellor, and when they spent more time arguing over what to do with her than over the immediate threat, Yana couldn’t help but burst out, “So no one’s concerned about the giant hole in the sky shitting out demons?”

”That hole wouldn’t be there if it weren’t for you!” Chancellor Roderick spat back.

”We can figure that out later, once the world isn’t in danger anymore,” Yana snarled. She ignored the Chancellor’s sputtering in favor of asking, “What are our options for getting to the Breach?”

”We should charge with the soldiers,” Cassandra said immediately. “It’s the fastest way.”

”But not the safest,” Leliana countered. “If you take the mountain path, you will avoid the worst of the demons.”

They were interrupted by the Breach pulsing once more, light emanating from Yana’s hand. “ _Shit_ ,” she hissed, hand clenching into a fist. The action caught Cassandra’s attention, and she turned to Yana.

”What do you think we should do?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

”Oh, so now you’re asking what _I_ think?” Yana demanded.

”You have the mark,” Solas said.

”And you are the one we must get to the Breach,” Cassandra finished.

Well, that wasn’t the most illogical of arguments. A glance at the Breach decided Yana’s choice for her. “We charge with the soldiers,” she said decisively. “Odds are, I won’t live long enough for your trial. Whatever happens, happens now.”

As they marched past the Chancellor, he shot one last parting remark at Cassandra: “On your head be the consequences, Seeker.” Yana saw Cassandra square her shoulders, and decided that she didn’t like the Chancellor very much.

* * *

”Rogers!” Cullen yelled, watching in horror as a demon cut down one of his men-- only for the demon to be cut down by what looked to be Cassandra’s prisoner. Cullen didn’t have long to focus on that, however, distracted by the wraith spitting gobs of… something at his head. From there it was a fast and furious fight, and it wasn’t until the rift was winking out of existence that Cullen had a moment to breathe. He braced his hands on his knees for a few moments before straightening and walking over to the new group-- Cassandra, Varric, Solas, and the prisoner. “Cassandra! You managed to close the rift? Well done.”

”Do not thank me, Commander-- thank our prisoner.” She gestured to the other woman, and Cullen got his first good look at her. She was almost his height, with dark auburn hair and eyes a deeper blue than any sapphire he’d ever seen. She had a simple tattoo under her left eye-- a hooked line with three dots under it.

She walked up next to Cassandra when gestured over, and Cullen said, “That was your doing, then? I hope they’re right about you.”

She snorted. “You’re not the only one hoping that,” she said, holding out a hand. “Zelyana Trevelyan.”

”Cullen Rutherford,” Cullen returned, reaching out to shake her hand briefly. “The way to the Breach is clear,” he said, unable to break their gaze. “We’ll go back, give them reinforcements while you deal with the Breach.”

Zelyana nodded. “Thank you; we’ll do everything we can.”

Cullen returned her nod, and then ran off to help another soldier limb back to the forward camp; he hoped that this wouldn’t end with anymore deaths.


	2. The Threat Remains

Yana wakes with a start, practically throwing herself upright on the bed she’s been laying on; she scares the hell out of an elf who was just walking in the door, who drops her basket with a startled cry. “Where am I?” Yana demands, almost snarling. “Is this another prison?”

”N-No, ma’am,” the elf stutters. “At least, I don’t think so?”

”Then where am I?”

”You’re back in Haven, m’lady,” she says, hands twisting around themselves nervously as she takes a step back. “You stopped the Breach from getting any bigger, it’s all anyone’s been able to talk about for the past three days.”

That’s news to Yana; she frowns, processing it. “So you’re saying… They’re happy with me?” she asks carefully, unsure of how she feels about that.

”I’m only saying what I heard,” the elf says hastily, backing away. “Lady Pentaghast said she wanted to see you when you woke; at once, she said.”

Yana carefully pushed herself into a standing position. “And where is the esteemed Seeker?”

”In the Chantry,” the elf said before repeating, “At once, she said!” and fleeing.

Yana watched her go with a raised eyebrow before shrugging and examining her surroundings; she looked to be inside of a small house, and rifling through the dropped box and the other cabinets and boxes revealed a collection of herbs that she pocketed-- never knew when elfroot and dawn lotus would come in handy-- a set of armor sized just for her, and her daggers. Yana may or may not have kissed them; she hadn’t been lying when she’d said that they were expensive, crafted by a traveling dwarf out of dragon materials, the blades edged with everite. They were modeled after Barbarian Rock-Crashers, and had saved Yana’s life more times than she could count. 

She quickly changed into the armor, making a few minor adjustments-- including taking the harness that would hold her daggers on her back and changing it so that it hung around her waist, one dagger on each side. If she could find another bow and some good arrows, she’d carry those with her, too; she wasn’t nearly as good with a bow and arrow as she was with her daggers, but ranged weapons were always handy.

After she was ready, Yana cracked open the door only to find that the elf from before must have spread the word that she was awake, because what looked like all of Haven was lined up, creating a path from the house to the Chantry. It made Yana uncomfortable, and her hands stayed close by her daggers even as she heard reverent whispers of, “ _That’s her; that’s the Herald of Andraste,_ ” and “ _She stopped the Breach from getting any bigger._ ” The mercenary hastened through the crowd, almost slamming the Chantry doors shut behind her in order to get away from the crowd; she definitely leaned against them for a moment, breathing heavily before making her way down the Chantry hall to where she could hear what sounded like Cassandra and Chancellor Roderick arguing over her fate-- again. She didn’t bother listening for long before simply barging in, kicking the door open.

As soon as she did, Chancellor Roderick was ordering, “Chain her! I want her taken to Val Royeaux for questioning.”

”Disregard that,” Cassandra broke in before the guards could move, “and leave us.” It was clear where the soldiers’ loyalties lay; they obeyed Cassandra.

”What do you think you’re doing, Seeker?” the Chancellor demanded, furious. “She must face trial.”

”So I’m still a suspect?” Yana exclaimed, incredulous. “Did you miss the part where I was unconscious for _three days_ because I was trying to close the Breach?”

”We did not,” Cassandra broke in, “and you are no longer a suspect. I believe you are innocent.”

”If she’s not a suspect, then what is she?” Chancellor Roderick growled.

”Sent by the Maker,” Cassandra answered, and Yana couldn’t help but snort, earning herself a mild glare from the Seeker.

”I’m no ‘chosen one’,” Yana said derisively.

”Whether or not you believe you were chosen, the truth is that everyone in Haven knows what you did, and they now believe that you were sent by the Maker to seal the Breach and save His world,” Cassandra retorted. “That is out of your hands, now.”

Leliana appeared from the back of the room as Chancellor Roderick was spluttering out protests. “Someone was at the Conclave, someone Most Holy did not expect,” she announced. “We all saw for ourselves at the Breach that she called to our prisoner--”

”Who has a name, it’s Zelyana, by the way,” Yana interrupted.

Leliana inclined her head. “That Most Holy called out to _Zelyana_ for help. Zelyana is no longer a suspect, but perhaps those responsible for the Breach survived the explosion, or have allies who yet live.” This last part was said with a pointed look to the Chancellor, who sputtered once again.

” _I’m_ a suspect?” he demanded once he’d gotten his thoughts together.

”You,” Leliana agreed, “and many others.”

”But _not_ the--”

The chancellor’s next words were interrupted by Cassandra slamming a heavy book down on the table. “You know what this is,” she said sharply. “It is a writ from Divine Justinia, granting Leliana and I the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn,” she announced, turning on Chancellor Roderick and poking him in the chest with each part of her next words: “We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, we will bring them to justice, and we will restore order. _With or without_ Chantry approval.”

Chancellor Roderick glared at Cassandra, but when she failed to back down, he did, leaving in an angry huff. “The timing could not be worse,” Leliana commented. “We have no funds, few soldiers, and now no Chantry approval.”

”But we must act,” Cassandra said, and Leliana nodded her agreement. They turned to Yana, and Cassandra added, “You can seal the rifts, and the people already hold you in high esteem; will you join us?”

Yana sighed. “Definitely not where I thought my day would go, but sure,” she said, taking Cassandra’s hand. “I’ll help-- for whatever good it’ll do the Inquisition.”

* * *

Cullen couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t happy to hear that the-- that _Zelyana_ had survived her initial assault on the Breach; the next time he saw her, well-rested and dressed in fitting gear with two curved daggers hanging from her hips, he was starting to suspect that he had a problem. When Cassandra pointed him out, Zelyana gave him a smile. “I remember you,” she said. “You helped that soldier limp back to camp after we closed the rift.” Cullen nodded, irrationally pleased that she remembered him. He then proceeded to tune out most of the conversation as Josephine and Leliana explained their problem with the Chantry until he heard Zelyana say, “I’m more concerned that meeting with the clerics won’t actually help.”

Realizing he hadn’t contributed anything really to the conversation yet, Cullen hastened to say, “I agree; it just lends credence to the idea that we should care about anything they have to say.” The look Leliana gave him told Cullen that she wasn’t fooled in the least, while Zelyana gave him a small, grateful smile-- a smile that made his stomach twist and clench, and Maker preserve him but this was going to get out of hand if he couldn’t get control of it.

At the end of the meeting, it was decided that Leliana’s people would scout the Hinterlands to find Mother Giselle, and Josephine dragged Zelyana away to question her; Cullen watched her go, wondering if she really could be the Herald of Andraste-- and if so, if it would be inappropriate for him to watch the way her hips swung as she walked; he decided no, not when she turned back around, caught him staring, and winked at him-- causing him to walk into the nearest column of the Chantry hall. He apologized to it, face flaming, and scarpered.

* * *

Yana laughed quietly to herself as she watched Cullen flee the hall; it hadn’t been hard to catch him staring at her arse, and she couldn’t help winking at him. He was cute, she thought; she certainly wouldn’t mind tumbling around in the hay with him. Her attention was dragged back to the here and now by Josephine clearing her throat delicately, an amused expression on her face. “I wanted to ask you some questions about yourself,” she explained.

Great. “What do you wish to know?” Yana asked cautiously.

”Well, what is your name? Where are you from? The basics,” Josephine answered.

Yana took a moment to formulate her reply before she said anything. “My name is Zelyana Trevelyan; I was born in the Free Marches to a minor noble family, but I left after a… scandal; that was more than a decade ago, and I’ve been traveling with various mercenary companies ever since.”

”Hm. Do you think we could petition your family for aid?” Josephine asked.

Yana shrugged. “If any of the bastards are still alive, if you frame it as a religious request then they’ll agree to it,” she informed the ambassador. “But Trevelyans… were not well-liked. My scandal has not helped matters any, I’m sure.”

Josephine was clearly dying to ask what the scandal was, but when Yana didn’t offer any information, the ambassador left the topic alone; Yana was grateful for that. “Thank you for the information,” Josephine said politely. “If you don’t mind my asking, what did you do as a mercenary?”

Now _that_ Yana was only too happy to talk about. “Oh, a little bit of everything,” she said cheerfully. “Bit of lockpicking, bit of assassination, guarding, brawling-- but I was the best at assassination. Anytime we needed to get in anywhere, I was the first one in; I could take out all the guards before anyone realized what was going on, and then my company had a clear path to wreak havoc.”

”Really? That… would match up with some of the stories I’ve heard about the Valo-Kas,” Josephine mused.

”The Valo-Kas were great,” Yana said, grinning. “Mostly Vashoth, but they were good blokes. Always liked a laugh, and good for intimidation. The stories I could tell about some of our assignments…” Yana sighed happily. “We’ll have to see if we can make contact with them; I’m sure they’d love to join the Inquisition, get the chance to smash some heads.”

The last bit made Josephine go faintly green. “Yes, well-- you’ll have to talk to Leliana about that,” she said faintly, and Yana took pity on her.

”I’ll go do that,” she said, nodding. “If you need anymore information or anything, don’t be afraid to ask.” When Josephine nodded her agreement, Yana left, striding out of the Chantry to go snoop around Haven-- maybe she’d be able to find a good smithy, see if she could tweak her armor just a bit more, maybe convince the blacksmith to make her a decent bow and arrows.

* * *

She did indeed find the blacksmith and convince him to make her a bow and arrows. It would take a while, so Yana decided to go investigate some more. She passed Cassandra beating the stuffing out of a training dummy and briefly debated interrupting her to talk, but decided against it when the Seeker cut the head of one dummy clean off, slicing through padding and wood as though it were heated butter. Instead, Yana decided to go spy on Cullen and his recruits-- his recruits who were coming along nicely, she noted. Her attention was caught by the former Templar Knight-Captain, however; his pauldron almost hid his face, she noted, and wondered what it would take to get him out of it. He had a nice face, Yana mused. That little scar on his upper lip only made him more attractive.

”You there!” Cullen barked, stepping up to swat a recruit lightly on the back of the head, tapping his elbow into place. “That’s a shield in your hand; block with it. If this man were your enemy, you’d be dead.” The commander stepped back, and Yana took her opportunity to step up beside him.

”I hope it’s only my arse you stare at,” she commented, just to watch him jump and flush; Maker’s balls, he was even _cuter_ when he blushed.

”I, er, that is--” He cleared his throat, face still burning. “They’re coming along nicely,” he said in a blatant change of subject. “We’re getting recruits from all over, though none made quite the entrance you did.”

Yana grinned. “What can I say,” she teased. “I like to stand out.”

”That you do,” Cullen agreed, grinning, his cheeks a bit lighter now but still flushed a pretty pink. “Want to get a look at the rest of them?”

Yana nodded, following the commander as they walked through the sparring recruits, Yana reaching out every once in a while to tap a foot or elbow back into place as they passed. “I’m rather proud of them,” Cullen said, his expression backing up his words. “They’ve been here only days, and they’re already coming so far. I was in Kirkwall when Cassandra recruited me; I don’t regret leaving the Order behind for this. The Inquisition-- if led properly-- can become a force for the good of all of Thedas,” he said, taking a slate from a runner, nodding to him and handing it back before continuing, “We could act where the Chantry cannot-- the Chantry serves a purpose, but if the Inquisition grows, gains enough influence, we could--” He stopped himself suddenly, red crawling up his neck once again. “Forgive me; I doubt you came here for a lecture.”

”No,” Yana agreed, though she was smiling softly; she genuinely liked the commander, physical attractiveness aside. “But if you have one prepared, I’d love to hear it.”

Cullen chuckled, his expression softening. “Another time, perhaps,” he said.

”I’m looking forward to it,” Yana promised.

Her words deepened the flush, and she idly wondered just how far under his clothing it went as he coughed and said, “I, well--” only to be interrupted by another runner. “I’m sorry, I suppose I should get back to work,” he said reluctantly.

”Of course; I’ll leave you to it, Commander,” Yana agreed, offering him another smile before turning and walking off(putting just a little extra swing in her hips; she was pleased to hear him let out a startled curse after a sound that sounded suspiciously like a tent line being tripped over and broken).

What? Yana knew she had a good ass, and she didn’t see any harm in teasing the Commander just a little.

* * *

Yana found Leliana in a tent set up near the Chantry; she arrived just in time to overhear Leliana ordering what sounded like the death of an Inquisition agent. “Wait, what are you doing?” Yana asked, incredulous.

”He’s a traitor,” Leliana said coolly. “We can no longer trust him.”

”So you’d kill him, just like that?”

”You find fault with my decision?” Leliana asked, raising one eyebrow.

”If he’s a traitor, then he has knowledge of our enemy. That makes him a resource, and killing him would be a waste,” Yana argued.

”Butler’s betrayal put our agents in danger!” Leliana snapped. “I condemn one man to save dozens. We cannot spare time for ideals in a time like this.”

”Then make time,” Yana retorted. “Now is _precisely_ the time for ideals-- and we need every angle and every bit of information we can get. I expected better from the Inquisition’s spymaster and the Left Hand.”

Leliana’s jaw clenched, but she glanced to her agent who was still standing nearby, his posture uncertain. “Apprehend Butler, but see that he lives,” she ordered tersely; the agent nodded and took off. “Now, if you’re happy,” she said, turning to glare back at Yana, “I have more work to do.”

* * *

The Herald, Cassandra, Solas, and Varric left for the Hinterlands the next day; Cullen stayed behind, training recruits. He didn’t hear back from them for a few days, and he pretended that he wasn’t affected-- but honestly, he was. He was worried about Zelyana-- there would be a lot of people all too willing to kill someone they might see as a false Herald. He didn’t rest easy even when they received a raven with new of the Herald helping to clear out hostiles from the Crossroads, and taking out the encampments of the rogue Templars and apostates. She even managed to get the horsemaster to agree to sending horses to the Inquisition, and agree to help himself-- after having Cullen send men to build watchtowers.

He didn’t rest easy until he was able to see for himself that Zelyana was back in Haven and safe-- stopping for a night before continuing to Val Royeaux to meet with the remaining clerics to try to convince them that the Inquisition was no threat to anyone except those responsible for the Breach. He actually ran into her at the smith; she was examining a bow, and seemed to be very happy about it. 

”Thanks again, Harrit,” she said, offering the smith a smile. “This will do very nicely. I found a nice grip schematic-- think you can cobble something together like this?” She showed him a piece of paper, and Harrit considered it for a moment before nodding. “No problem; I’ll have this ready before you leave for Val Royeaux. Stop by here and I’ll attach it as you leave.”

”Great, thanks!” Yana slung the bow over her back where the quiver was already resting, and almost ran directly into Cullen as she vaulted the rock wall. “Oomph!”

Cullen reached out automatically to steady her; when she straightened, their chests were pressed together. “Good afternoon,” he said politely.

”Oh, Cullen, hi,” Yana said, for once sounding a little flustered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

”It’s fine,” Cullen reassured her. “How was the Hinterlands?”

”Pretty, and violent,” Yana laughed. “But Maker, did it feel good to get out there and tear some idiots apart.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow as he reluctantly removed his hands from her upper arms. “Bloodthirsty, are we?”

”Yup,” Yana admitted shamelessly. “Hey, you spend a decade with a mercenary company made almost entirely of Tal-Vashoth and Vashoth and you pick up a few new traits. I like fighting; it’s cathartic. Hey,” she said suddenly, face lighting up. “Maybe I could work with some of your recruits? Show them how to fight against a stealthy opponent, or one with daggers. Not all people fight with a sword and shield.”

Cullen considered the idea for a moment. “That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “Perhaps when you come back from Val Royeaux?”

”Absolutely,” Yana agreed, beaming-- but her expression fell into a wary one as they approached the Chantry; mages and Templars were gathered in front of it, hurling abuse and accusations at each other. Swearing under his breath, Cullen shoved his way to the middle. “ _Enough!_ ” he roared, getting between the two apparent leaders.

”Knight-Captain!” the Templar said, surprised, and quickly sheathed his sword.

”That is not my title anymore,” Cullen said sharply. “We are no longer Templars-- we are all part of the Inquisition.”

”And how does your Inquisition intend to restore order?” Chancellor Roderick demanded, strolling forward. “I’m sure we’d all like to know.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure _you_ would,” he said dismissively. “All of you, back to your duties-- anyone else who has a problem is welcome to take it up with me or Sister Leliana.” The crowd visibly shrank back at that, and Cullen couldn't help but smirk slightly to himself.

The crowd dispersed fairly quickly-- all except for Chancellor Roderick.

Yana stepped up beside him; a glance to the side revealed a deep frown on her face. “You sure you’ll be able to keep order while I’m gone?” she asked with a glance to the chancellor.

”I’ll try,” Cullen said.

”You won’t get far with the clerics,” Chancellor Roderick predicted. “The Chantry has condemned you; you’ll never get any support from them.”

”Well, if they’re anything like you, we won’t; personally I’m hoping that I _won’t_ find a city full of chancellors,” Yana retorted. “Good luck keeping the peace, Cullen; I’m going to go talk with Mother Giselle, see if she has any more ideas for me.”

”I’ll do my best to make sure the walls are still standing when you return,” Cullen said with a smile, watching as Yana walked away.

”I wouldn’t have thought a _Templar_ would stray so far as to exalt a false Herald,” Roderick said acidly, and Cullen started.

”The people have raised her as their Herald,” Cullen said coolly. “And no one can say for certain that she is not the Herald of Andraste.”

”And yet--”

”And yet, nothing. Don’t you have papers to file or something, Chancellor?”

* * *

Thankfully, the rest of the time passed uneventfully, and the next day found Yana gathering her things to leave for Val Royeaux when there was a knock on her door. “Come in,” she called; she glanced over her shoulder as the door opened, her mouth dropping open slightly when she caught sight of her visitor. “Cullen,” she said, pleasantly surprised. “What’re you doing here?”

Cullen didn’t look too sure of that himself. “I-- I wanted to wish you luck,” he said after a moment. “I’ve been to Val Royeaux, and I know what the Chantry sisters and clerics can be like. You’re going to need all the luck you can get.”

Yana smiled softly-- and shit, this was something different from just wanting a tumble in the sack with him. Yana wasn’t sure she liked this feeling. “Thank you,” she said, realizing that they’d just been standing there smiling at each other. “I think I agree with you; if any of them are anything at all like Chancellor Roderick…” Yana sighed. “I just hope they don’t ask me outright if I think I’m the Herald. I don’t worship the Maker, but I’d feel bad lying to a Chantry sister.”

”I think most people would,” Cullen said, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. There was a slight hesitation, and then he was reaching forward to tug Yana into a hug; startled, the rogue froze-- but only for a moment before she was returning the hug tentatively. “You’ve managed to charm everyone in Haven and most of the Hinterlands,” he reminded her, still not letting go. “I believe you’ll be able to win over the clerics-- or at least enough of them to make our lives easier.”

Yana hid her smile in Cullen’s pauldron. “Thank you,” she mumbled, letting herself relax into Cullen’s hold. It was nice-- she hadn’t had just a simple hug in… longer than she cared to think about. They stayed like that for several minutes, until Yana reluctantly broke the hug. “I should probably get going,” she said sheepishly, stepping back. “I mean it though-- thank you. I appreciate the support.”

Cullen gave her another one of his smiles that made her think of a puppy. “If you ever need something, I’m here for you,” he said sincerely, and Yana really appreciated that.

”Thank you,” she said-- but they were cut off by a knock at the door, and Cassandra calling Yana’s name. “I’d better--”

”Of course,” Cullen said, flushing slightly. “Have fun.”

* * *

” _Have fun?_ ”

Cullen was still berating himself two days later, when Yana and her companions were due back. “Last thing you say to her before she leaves and it’s ‘ _have fun_ ’?”

”Commander!”

Cullen looked up at the shout, a grin spreading across his face without his permission; Yana and her companions were riding in. Honestly, Cullen would never understand what the woman saw in that creepy undead horse-- Cullen and everyone else who passed its paddock _swore_ that it was human-intelligent from the way that it stared at them as they passed by, ignoring the grass beneath its feet. Apparently undead horses didn’t need to eat.

Cullen headed for the Chantry; he knew that Cassandra would drag Yana there once they were done untacking. Sure enough, they didn’t have to wait long; Josephine approached them first, Cullen and Leliana trailing behind. “It’s a shame to see that the Templars have abandoned their senses as well as the Chantry,” Cullen said with a frown.

”The Chantry’s dealt with,” Yana said, pushing between Cullen and Leliana to head for the war room. 

”And now we have the opening we need to approach the mages and the templars,” Josephine finished.

”Do we?” Cassandra questioned. “Lord Seeker Lucius is not the man I remember.”

Cullen frowned, remembering Leliana’s agent’s report. “You’re right. Right now, I’m not certain we have enough influence to approach the Order safely.”

”Or Zelyana could just go to meet the mages in Redcliffe,” Josephine suggested.

”I agree,” Yana said suddenly. “I don’t trust the Templars; I want to go to Redcliffe, at least see what the mages want in return for their help.”

Cullen blinked; he hadn’t known that Yana didn’t trust the Order. Cassandra tried to talk Yana into meeting with the Order, but she refused, adamantly insisting she would speak with the mages. The meeting broke up soon after that; Yana spoke briefly with Leliana before she headed for the Chantry doors. “May I speak with you?” Cullen said, stepping just slightly into the rogue’s path.

Yana blinked, almost as if she hadn’t seen Cullen standing there. “Oh. Uh, yeah, sure. I still have to unpack; I just kind of slung my bag in the door. Walk and talk?”

Cullen nodded, opening the Chantry door for her and then following her through. “I didn’t know you disliked Templars so much,” he started; Yana sighed.

”On the whole, yes,” she admitted. “I mean, I know that _not all_ Templars are bad, but… But honestly, enough of them are that I don’t trust them on the whole. I trust you, because you’ve shown yourself to be trustworthy.” Yana shrugged, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t trust a lot of people,” she confessed quietly. “Never have.”

Cullen blinked at that, but honestly he wasn’t surprised; Yana struck him as a very cautious person. It made him feel good, knowing that she trusted him, despite him being a former Templar. “Well, I’m glad you trust me,” he said quietly, pleased.

Yana smiled at him, her smile small and shy. “I do,” she agreed. “I really do. You’re a good guy, Cullen.”

Cullen felt his face heat and he looked away, blinking when he realized they were already at Yana’s house. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you here,” he said after a moment. “When are you leaving for Redcliffe?”

Yana shrugged. “Probably tomorrow, day after,” she said. “Why?”

Cullen mirrored her shrug. “I was just curious,” he said. _You wanted to know how much time you had to spend with her,_ a treacherous voice said at the back of his mind; Cullen did his best to ignore it.

Yana seemed a bit disappointed with his answer, but she recovered quickly enough. “Well, now you know,” she said after a moment. “Oh, before I forget: We’ve got two new members. Sera and Vivienne de Fer.”

”The Lady of Iron?” Cullen said incredulously. “How’d you get her involved?”

”She invited me to a salon; intervened before I killed some marquis on her dance floor for insulting me. She verbally eviscerated him, it was amazing.” It took Cullen a moment to identify the hot, uncomfortable feeling in his stomach as _jealousy_ at the admiration in Yana’s tone. “She told me she wanted to join, to officially show the ‘support of the last loyal mages in Thedas.’”

”And this Sera?” Cullen asked, curious.

”An elf, although she seems derisive of her own kind,” Yana answered. “She’s a member of the Friends of Red Jenny-- I think she’s a ringleader.”

Cullen frowned. “I’ve heard of that group; they cause havoc, and have killed some people.”

”No more than any other group,” Yana countered. “And from what Sera’s said, if I have to endorse any group, I’ll endorse hers. I hate nobles who treat those below them like shit.” From the expression on her face, there was a story behind that, but if Yana didn’t want to volunteer the information, Cullen wasn’t going to press her on it.

”I’ll have Leliana do some more digging, get the full stories,” Cullen offered after a moment.

”Sounds good,” Yana agreed. “I’m sorry, I really need to unpack, see what needs to be restocked…” She sounded reluctant, and Cullen knew the feeling, but he couldn’t justify taking up any more of her time.

”Of course,” he agreed, taking a step back. “I’ll see you later, then, Zelyana.”

Yana reached out to touch the back of his hand as he turned; he paused, looking back at her. “Call me Yana,” she said with a smile.

Cullen returned it. “Yana,” he agreed; he liked how it sounded on his lips.


	3. In Hushed Whispers

Blackwall looked over his ‘conscripts’; they were local farmers who’d been terrorized by Black Steel bandits, and when Blackwall had heard of their plight he’d employed a tactic he’d used before in similar situations. He’d ‘conscripted’ them, taught them how to properly fight and stand up for themselves, and was in the middle of the last training session when four people walked up, led by the woman in front; she was undeniably attractive in a rough way, but when she called him ‘Blackwall,’ he was immediately suspicious. “Who are you?” he demanded, striding over purposefully. “How do you know my name, you’re no-- _unf!_ ” He barely managed to get his shield up in time to catch the arrow aimed straight for his head. “That’s it,” he snarled, then turned on the woman. “Either help or get lost,” he ordered before turning to his conscripts. “Conscripts! To arms!”

They were attacked by Black Steel bandits, and Blackwall hadn’t expected the unknown group to actually stick around and help, but he saw the one woman wielding two daggers, spinning and lashing out in an elegant dance-- a dance that ended with the deaths of her partners. When it was over, Blackwall dismissed his conscripts, then turned to the newcomers. “Who are you?” he asked, a bit more politely this time. “You’re no Wardens, so who are you?”

”Introductions are in order,” she said with a nod. “I am Zelyana; my companions are Cassandra, Solas, and Varric.” She pointed to another woman, a bald elf carrying a staff, and a dwarf with a crossbow in turn. “We’re agents from the Inquisition, and we have some questions for you concerning the disappearance of the Wardens and the death of the Divine.”

Blackwall startled at Zelyana’s words. “What? That can’t be-- no, you’re asking, so you don’t know for sure,” he said, almost to himself. “I travel alone, recruiting; I haven’t seen any Wardens for months. But I can tell you this: No warden killed the Divine; our purpose isn’t political.”

”Is it killing bandits?” Zelyana asked, gesturing to the bodies currently laying on the ground behind them.

”Those idiots forced this fight; they were terrorizing the local villagers, so I ‘conscripted’ their victims. I told them to stand, and fight-- next time, they won’t need me. Grey Wardens can inspire you, make you better than you think you are.”

Zelyana rolled her eyes. “Right, well, that’s inspiring and all, but now where does that leave us?” She walked past Blackwall, a thoughtful expression on her face, and Blackwall hesitated only a moment before calling out.

”Inquisition! Agent, did you say? Hold a moment.” Zelyana complied, turning to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Events like these, thinking we’re gone is almost as bad as thinking we’re involved,” he said. “Maybe you need a Warden at your side-- maybe you need me.”

Zelyana seemed to consider his offer for a moment before nodding. “Warden Blackwall, the Inquisition accepts your offer. Go to Haven; Commander Cullen could use your expertise.”

Blackwall nodded, and watched the four companions leave before going to pack his (few) things.

* * *

”You _like_ him,” Varric said a little while later, making Yana trip over the rock in front of her.

”What are you--” she spluttered.

”The Warden; you like him. I thought you liked Cullen?” Varric tilted his head curiously.

Yana flushed. “What’s wrong with liking both?” she demanded. “It’s not like I can do anything about it until the Breach is sealed. Besides,” she added, not looking back at her companions. “I think Cullen likes me, and Blackwall… I just met him. I can’t make any calls on tha-- _Shit._ ” Varric echoed her statement, looking at the rift in front of Redcliffe’s main gate. “Well,” Yana said, unsheathing her daggers. “We know what to do with rifts, don’t we?”

Except they didn’t, not with this rift; it twisted time around itself, speeding some things up and others down. They managed to get it closed, but while the gates were being opened, Yana exchanged looks with her companions. “That was odd,” Solas mused.

”Odd?” Varric scoffed. “That was _freaky_.”

”It twisted time around itself,” Yana mused, frowning. “We haven’t met any that could do that before.”

”Rifts never happened before the Breach,” Cassandra reminded them. “We don’t know what they’re capable of.”

Yana was kept from replying by an agent approaching them. “Ser! We spread word that the Inquisition was coming, but you should know that no one was expecting us.”

”No one?” Yana asked sharply.

”Not even Grand Enchanter Fiona?” Cassandra continued.

”No one,” the agent confirmed.

Yana glanced back. “Be on your guard,” she ordered. “I don’t like this.”

”Forgive me, but are you the Herald of Andraste?” a mage runner approached, and Yana turned to face him.

”I am,” she confirmed. “I am here to meet with Grand Enchanter Fiona.”

”The former Grand Enchanter is no longer in charge,” he informed them. “Magister Alexius is expected shortly; he will meet you in the tavern. I will leave you there.”

” _Magister_?” Cassandra murmured, coming up to Yana’s side.

”Now I _really_ don’t like this,” Yana muttered back. “Keep an eye out.”

There were murmurs and stares following them through the village, and by the time they finally arrived at the Gull and Lantern, Yana was keeping a hand on the handle of one of her daggers; the whispers were mostly uncomplimentary. The runner opened the door, ushering them in, and took them to one corner of the tavern. “The agents of the Inquisition, ma’am,” he said, bowing to Fiona.

”It is a pleasure to see you,” she said politely. “Though I confess I am confused as to why you are here.”

”Is that some sort of trick question?” Yana queried, confused herself. “You invited me here; you traveled to Val Royeaux to do so.”

”Val Royeaux?” Fiona repeated, her expression incredulous. “You must be mistaken; I haven’t been to the capital since before the Conclave.”

”Well, that’s odd, because I could have sworn that it was you that we spoke to,” Yana said. “Or someone who looks exactly like you.”

”Why would someone…” Fiona shook her head. “Nevertheless, whoever-- or whatever-- brought you here, the circumstances have changed. The rebel mages are no longer free to join the Inquisition-- we have pledged ourselves to the Tevinter Imperium.”

”Do you _want_ all of Thedas against you?” Cassandra demanded, her voice and expression horrified.

”I’m trying to think of a worse thing you could have done, and I’m coming up empty-handed,” Varric added.

”You deserve better than slavery to Tevinter,” Solas said, his voice and manner calm as always, although his expression belied his concern.

Fiona simply tilted her head. “As one indentured to a magister, I no longer have the authority to bargain with you.”

”Then who does?” Yana asked sharply.

”That would be me.” Yana turned to see someone who could only be Magister Alexius approaching. “The free mages have indentured themselves to me. You are the survivor, yes? The one from the Conclave?” Alexius studied Yana closely; it made her uncomfortable, and her hand twitched towards her dagger involuntarily. Alexius caught the movement and raised one eyebrow before gesturing to a nearby table, sending his son for paper and quills as he sat down. “I understand you are looking for mages to help close the Breach? There’s no telling how many mages will be needed for such an endeavor; ambitious indeed.”

Yana slid into the seat opposite him. “Well, when you’re looking to close a literal hole in the sky, you can’t afford to think small,” she retorted.

Alexius’s expression twitched briefly into something dangerous before he regained control over it, announcing, “There will have to be--”

He was interrupted by his son stumbling over; Yana leapt to her feet, reaching out just in time to catch him as he fell. “Felix!” Alexius gasped, practically leaping over the table. “Son, what happened?”

”I’m alright, Father,” Felix said, his expression apologetic. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Yana felt something slip into her pocket as Felix straightened, turning to lean instead on his father as they walked off, Alexius calling for Fiona and saying that they would be in contact with the Inquisition. When she was sure that they were gone, Yana pulled the paper out of her pocket. “Come to the Chantry,” she read in a murmur. “You are in danger.” Yana exchanged glances with her companions. “Well, let’s go see what the danger is.”

* * *

Cullen was interrupted in the war room by a knock on the door. “Come in,” he called, straightening from where he was bent over the map. The door opened to reveal a runner, and behind him a strange man. “Who is this?” he asked curiously.

”Warden Blackwall,” the runner said. “He’s here to join the Inquisition; Sister Leliana sent the Herald to find him in the Hinterlands, and she was successful.”

”Well, that explains how she found me,” Blackwall mused. “She helped me with a small problem, and when I asked to join, she sent me here. She said you might be able to use me.”

”You’re a Warden recruiter, aren’t you?” Cullen asked, eyeing Blackwall thoughtfully. He was a handsome man, Cullen thought idly. Most men would kill for a beard and build like his.

Blackwall nodded. “Yes; I train some of the recruits, as well. Or at least I did, until apparently the Wardens up and vanished.”

Cullen nodded. “Would you like to take a look at our recruits?” he offered. “I’ve been working with them, but it’s always nice to have an extra set of eyes.”

”I’d like that,” Blackwall said. “Better than sitting around with my thumbs up my arse.”

Cullen laughed, coming around the war table to lead Blackwall to the training grounds. “I understand the feeling.”

When they got to the training grounds, Blackwall made an impressed noise. “They look good,” he said, giving Cullen an impressed nod. “You’ve been working with them since the Conclave?”

Cullen nodded. “Most of them; the more experienced ones have started helping me train the newest recruits; they pair up with them, start teaching them the basics. We’re starting to get more and more recruits, ever since the Herald went to Val Royeaux.”

”The Herald? Zelyana?”

Cullen nodded, a smile coming to his face at the mention of Yana. “Yes; she was the only one to survive the Breach; no one knows why. The soldiers who were there said that there was a woman behind her, who handed her out of the Fade.”

”Do you believe that?” Blackwall asked, his expression curious.

Cullen took a moment to think about it. “I believe that she was chosen by the Maker,” he said finally. “She doesn’t worship the Maker, but I don’t think that makes her not-chosen. There was a reason she survived the Breach, I believe that.”

Blackwall considered that for a moment. “She’s a leader,” he said quietly. “Strong, confident, and she inspires loyalty-- her companions followed her into the fight with the bandits without question.”

Cullen’s smile softened. “That she does; she was with a mercenary company before the Conclave, and I don’t think she was the leader, but I’d believe she was the second in command. We would all follow her, wherever she led. If anyone could be the Inquisitor, it would be her.”

That seemed to get Blackwall’s attention. “Why her?”

”Not because of the whole Herald thing,” Cullen clarified. “But because she has stepped up, and because she sees both sides of everything, and makes the choice that is best for everyone.”

Blackwall was quiet for a moment, thinking that over. “That makes sense,” he allowed. Something caught his attention in one of the nearby sparring couples, and he walked over, barking out orders. Cullen watched him go, a bemused expression on his face. Yana seemed to find the most curious people.

* * *

”I hate Tevinter magic!” Yana burst out as she threw the doors to the war room open. “Fucking blood mages and magisters and--”

”Hey! I resent that remark,” Dorian said, trailing behind her.

”Can it, Pavus,” Yana snarled, turning to her confused council members. “Look, Alexius has taken over Redcliffe, and he’s managed to travel through time. We need to stop him and free the mages.”

”How?” Cullen demanded. “Redcliffe Castle has repelled hundreds-- _thousands_ \-- of front assaults. We can’t take the castle.”

”Then we find another way in,” Yana snapped. “If it’s repelled thousands of attacks, then it’s really old. You know what really old castles have? Escape tunnels. Find the escape tunnel, and we use it to get in.”

”There is such a tunnel,” Leliana said. “Too small for troops, but we can get agents in and use them to take out Alexius’s men.”

”We’d need a distraction--” Cullen started, but was interrupted by Yana.

”So let’s give Alexius the meeting he wants,” she said impatiently. “Look, I know how to take care of myself, and I won’t be going in alone. But we cannot leave Alexius in control of Redcliffe; he needs to be taken care of.”

Cullen sighed. “I don’t like you being in that much danger,” he said, “but you are right.”

”I’ll go with your agents,” Dorian announced. “Alexius was my mentor, I know his magic and can get your agents through unnoticed. Perfect for a sneak attack.”

Yana nodded, satisfied. “That’s our plan, then; Dorian gets Leliana’s agents through to take care of Alexius’s men while me and two others keep him distracted. I’m thinking Cassandra and Blackwall.”

There were murmurs of agreement, although Yana could see that Cullen didn’t think much of the plan; she waited until everyone else had left to keep him back. “All right,” she said, shutting the door so he couldn’t escape. “Spit it out, whatever’s bothering you.”

Cullen looked like he was going to keep silent, but after a moment he said tersely, “I really don’t like this slipshod of a plan.”

Yana sighed, taking a moment to draw in a deep breath, forcing herself to relax; she’d been running on high ever since she’d realized what Alexius had managed to do. “I know, and I would like to have a better plan, too, but we don’t have time to try to come up with something better,” she reasoned, taking a step towards Cullen. “I promise, I’ll be as safe as I can.”

Cullen sighed, closing the distance between them to take one of her hands in his. “We all want you safe,” he said quietly, staring at their joined hands. “I--” Yana ducked down to meet his gaze, her expression soft, inviting him to continue his thought. He sighed, and confessed, “I don’t want you hurt.”

Yana hesitated for a moment before leaning in to press a quick, soft kiss to his cheek. “I can’t promise not to be hurt, but I can promise I’ll try my best,” she promised softly. She gave Cullen’s hand a squeeze before letting it go and leaving the war room before she did something stupider, like actually kiss him.

* * *

Yana let Cassandra know the plan, and when the Seeker had gone off to pack her things, Yana headed over to the paddock near the blacksmith’s, intent on checking over her tack-- but her attention was caught by their new Warden friend, who was standing near the smithy, staring up at the Breach. Yana approached him carefully, making sure that he could see her; before she could say anything, he spoke.

”Maker, look at it,” he breathed. “I heard the stories, but I never imagined--” He glanced to Yana, his expression unreadable. “And to actually walk out of it, to be that close…”

Yana shrugged, stepping closer until they were only a few feet apart. “I was lucky,” she said modestly. “Somehow, I managed to survive. I just wish I hadn’t been the only one.”

Blackwall nodded in understanding. “I have to say, from all the stories I heard, I thought you’d be…”

Yana raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “More?” she suggested.

Blackwall shook his head. “Well, yes.”

Yana laughed at that. “Well, at least you’re honest,” she chuckled, grinning at Blackwall.

He grinned back slightly-- or at least, she thought he did; the beard twitched-- before sobering. “It was a foolish thought,” he replied with a shake of his head. “I should have known better than to say anything.” He glanced back at the Breach, and then to Yana. “I swear, I will do all I can in my power to help you find the bastards who killed the Divine,” he said, hands clenching into fists.

Yana smiled at that. “Thank you; I get the feeling that we’re going to need all the help we can get. This won’t be easy.”

”No, it won’t,” Blackwall agreed, before hesitating for a moment. “Tell me one thing: Commander Cullen said that you didn’t believe you were chosen; where do you think you fit in then?”

Yana had to think about that for a moment; the honest answer was, “I don’t know. Some call me the Herald of Andraste, but that doesn’t feel right. All I know is that I’m here, I can seal rifts, and I want justice for the Divine and the Breach closed.”

Blackwall nodded. “A worthy goal, and one I’m happy to support,” he said.

That gave Yana the perfect opening to ask, “Well, I could use your support. We’re going back to Redcliffe, to take down the magister who’s enslaved the free mages. Wanna join me?”

Blackwall raised one eyebrow before nodding. “As long as you’ve got a plan, then yes. One thing, though-- I have maps, with locations of abandoned Warden camps; do you think we could stop at the ones in the Hinterlands, find the artifacts there? I’d like to save all that I can of their history.”

Yana tilted her head when he said ‘their’ instead of ‘our,’ but chalked it up to a slip of the tongue. “Of course,” she said with a smile. “I’d be happy to help with that.”

Blackwall truly smiled this time-- Yana even saw hints of teeth. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “The camps are a bit out of the way, but I believe the artifacts will be worth it.”

”I’m sure they will be,” Yana answered. “We’re leaving tomorrow, around noon; we’ll stop by, pick up the artifacts and have them shipped back here before we head to Redcliffe Castle; how does that sound?”

”That sounds perfect.”

* * *

Redcliffe Castle was a _lot_ bigger than what Yana had been anticipating; hopefully that wouldn’t screw up their plans. Still, it was too late to do anything about that now; all they could do was to keep moving forward with the plan they had in place. Which meant striding into the entrance hall as if she owned the place, and demanding of the servant sent to greet them, “Announce us.”

He glanced to Cassandra and Blackwall before countering, “The invitation was for Lady Trevelyan only; the others will have to wait.”

Yana raised an eyebrow, drawing herself to her full height and attempting to channel the training of her youth as she haughtily sneered, “They are my companions; where they go, I go. So either they accompany me to the main hall, or Magister Alexius can come meet us here.”

The servant hesitated, but Yana knew she had him when his shoulders slumped slightly. “Very well; follow me.”

Yana, Cassandra, and Blackwall followed him through a short hall and an ornate door to the main hall of the castle; Alexius was waiting for them, seated on a throne. “What a pleasure to see you, Lady Trevelyan,” he said, not making any move to get to his feet. “And your companions, as well.” He motioned for Felix, who was standing by his side, to hand him a slate. “Now, you want mages, and I have them. The question is, what are you going to give me in return?”

From the corner of her eye, Yana saw Leliana’s men slipping into place; she’d gone through too many similar operations to move and give them away, however, instead focusing completely on Alexius. “Nothing,” she said cheerfully. “I’m simply going to take them right out from under your nose.”

”And how do you think you’ll manage that?” Alexius demanded, lunging to his feet. He was stopped by Felix’s hand on his arm.

”Enough, Father; she knows everything.” Alexius stared at his son in horror.

”Felix, what have you done?” he asked, horror-stricken.

”Whatever he’s done, it’s been to attempt to protect you,” Yana said sharply. “Give it up, Alexius; you won’t win this fight.”

”Won’t I, _thief_?” Alexius snarled, rounding on Yana. “You don’t even know what that mark on your hand is, and you think you can come in here and threaten me? You stole that mark from my master, from the Elder One, and I intend to kill you so that he can start again!”

”The Elder One?” Yana asked, bewildered. “Who the hell--”

”He has power beyond belief,” Alexius said, his voice gone reverent. “The very heavens will bow to his will-- and he will save Felix.”

”Save Felix?” That was Dorian, moving to stand next to Yana. “Alexius, you know that there is no cure for the Blight!”

”Dorian,” Alexius sneered. “You don’t know the power the Elder One wields; he can and will save Felix, so long as I deliver him your head. Venatori! Seize her!” 

Alexius’s command was followed only by the sounds of all of his men in the hall being slaughtered, killed by Leliana’s men. “Your men are dead, Alexius,” Yana said, stepping forward. “Surrender.”

” _Never,_ ” he snarled, lifting an amulet. “There is still a way--” The amulet began glow, surrounded by a sickly green light; Dorian let out a shout, attempting to blast the amulet out of Alexius’s hand, but it was too late. The amulet opened a rift, and Yana and Dorian were sucked inside.

* * *

Blackwall rested his head against the back wall of his cell; honestly, he always thought he’d end his life in a cell, but he’d never imagined that it would be like this, with red lyrium burning under his skin, whispering through his mind and clouding his vision. He’d done a lot of things in his life, seen a lot, but the one thing he would never forget-- and had never let himself forget-- was the sight of Zelyana being pulled into the rift that damned magister had opened, disappearing in the blink of an eye. Their only hope for sealing the Breach, for stopping the Elder One, gone, yet another victim to Tevinter and its evils.

The sounds of fighting broke through his thoughts, and Blackwall glanced over his shoulder, frowning; the guards rarely fought amongst themselves, so who--

” _In here, Dorian; we haven’t checked this one yet._ ”

The door opened, and Blackwall turned around, stepping to the front of his cell. “Zelyana? But-- no, you’re dead. Maker have mercy, the dead should rest in peace. You deserve better than this.”

”I’m not dead,” Zelyana said gently, stepping forward and picking the lock to his cell door. “Alexius’s magic sent us forward in time.”

Blackwall frowned. “Forward in time? Then this, this whole year, was what-- a mistake?” He could feel the anger growing inside him, hotter than the lyrium. Alexius changed history, corrupted it--

He was distracted by Yana’s hand on his shoulder. “You’re angry,” she stated. “Good; hold onto that feeling, and you can take it out on Alexius when we find him.”

Blackwall nodded, taking the armor and weapon Yana handed him. “He spends most of his time in the main hall, I’ve heard the guards say; apparently he rarely leaves nowadays. I know Cassandra is in the next block of cells, if you want to grab her.”

Zelyana’s grin was dangerous. “Why not?” she said with faux cheerfulness that almost sent shivers down Blackwall’s spine. “She deserves a chance at revenge, too.”

From there, it was all a blur of fighting-- demons, venatori, more demons, and more venatori, until they were fighting Alexius himself; that fight was rather anticlimactic, and ended with Alexius dead on the floor, his head somewhere in a corner of the hall thanks to Blackwall’s greatsword. The foundations of the very castle were shaking, however, and Blackwall knew they didn’t have much time; he exchanged glances with Cassandra and Leliana, and then nodded. “We will guard the door, give you as much time as we can,” he said.

”But--” Zelyana protested, her expression anxious.

”The only way we live is if this day never comes,” Leliana added, and Zelyana’s expression hardened.

”Give us as much time as you can,” she said. “We’ll make this count.”

Blackwall and Cassandra barricaded themselves outside of the door, and waited for their deaths-- but damn if they weren’t going to take as many Venatori and demons as they could with them.

* * *

If Yana never had to go through another time-travel rift, it would be too soon; but all that mattered was that they were back in Redcliffe’s main hall, but this time just a moment after they’d disappeared the first time. The look on Alexius’s face brought no joy to Yana; she knew what would have happened had he succeeded in killing her. “You’ll have to do better than that,” Dorian gloated; she was sure that even his mustache looked smug.

”It’s over, Alexius,” Yana said, voice firm. “Give up.”

The magister sank to his knees, and Leliana’s men immediately rushed forward, securing him. “You’ve won,” Alexius said, defeated. Felix came to kneel by his father, and Alexius gave him an anguished look. “I’m sorry, son; I couldn’t save you.”

”It’s all right, Father,” Felix said gently, reaching out to lay a hand on his father’s shoulder.

”But you’ll die.”

”Everyone dies.”

* * *

”You took the mages on as our allies?” Cullen demanded as soon as Yana walked through the doors of the Chantry. “There are bound to be abominations--”

”You weren’t there, Commander,” Cassandra said sharply. “The sole point of the mission was to gain the mages’ support, and that has been accomplished.”

”That was a decision that should have been made by all of us--”

”But you weren’t there, were you?” Yana snapped, glaring at Cullen. “I know you don’t trust mages, Cullen, but we need their cooperation if we’re going to close the Breach, and that’s not going to happen if we make enemies of them. Besides, I will _not_ let the Inquisition become another Circle.”

Cullen’s mouth opened and closed like a fish’s, but was interrupted by Leliana. “Regardless, we now have the power we need to close the Breach; we will need lyrium to help bolster the mages.”

”I can help with that,” Yana said, turning her attention from Cullen. “I’ve got contacts.”

”Smugglers?” Leliana suggested, expression wry.

”Just try to keep it under the table, and I will do what I can to quiet rumors,” Josephine said.

Cullen sighed. “Very well; I will make sure that there are plenty of accommodations for the mages; but we will keep an eye on them,” he warned. “As I said, there are bound to be--”

”Abominations, yes, we know,” Yana said. “Cullen-- You weren’t there. You didn’t see how they were treated; the mages need allies, and they have a good cause.”

Cullen sighed. “Yes, I know they do; I was at Kirkwall. Very well; the decision has been made, and we will adhere to it.”

The meeting broke up, but Cullen didn’t miss how Yana looked at him with a thoughtful expression; he tried not to linger on it, though, instead heading out of the Chantry to make the arrangements needed to ensure the safety of everyone at Haven. He didn’t see Yana for most of the rest of the day; it was sunset before she found him at the training grounds. He glanced at her as she came to stand beside him, but didn’t say anything.

They stood there in silence for several long moments before Yana sighed and broke the silence. “I’m sorry, for snapping at you earlier,” she apologized. “I was… stressed, and I took it out on you. That was uncalled for.”

Cullen blew out a breath before admitting, “I didn’t make it any better; I trust you, Yana. I know you wouldn’t have done anything to put our people in danger. If you trust the mages, then I will do my best to do so as well.”

”Just give them a chance, Commander,” Yana said, offering Cullen a smile. “That’s all that I’m asking. I know that there must be precautions taken to make sure that everyone is as safe as possible, but I meant what I said: If I have anything to do with it, the Inquisition will not reinstate the Circles.”

Cullen was quiet for a moment. “I understand that,” he conceded. “The Circles had strayed too far from what they were meant to be.”

Yana nodded, but abruptly turned and threw her arms around Cullen. “Everyone was dead, or imprisoned,” she muttered. “The Elder One succeeded, and everyone was… gone. Blackwall was-- _You_ were--”

Cullen had reacted instinctually when Yana had reached for him, but now he pulled her closer, ducking down to bury his nose in her hair, holding her tightly. “We’re right here,” he murmured, letting his hand stroke over her back. “We’re going to keep that future from happening.”

He could feel Yana trembling in his hold, and he continued murmuring softly to her, glaring at those agents who stopped to gawk at them, making them suddenly remember that they had other things to do beside stare at their Commander comforting the Herald. He held Yana like that until the sun was disappearing beneath the horizon, until she’d stopped trembling and was pulling back, wiping at her face. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, laughing derisively at herself. “I haven’t known you all that long, but you all already mean so much to me, and you…”

”Hey, hey,” Cullen shushed, tilting her face up with one hand cupping her chin. “There’s nothing wrong with caring about your colleagues,” he said firmly. “What you saw, what you went through-- that would shake anyone. It doesn’t make you weak, or whatever else you might be thinking.”

Yana gave him a shaky smile, and Maker help him, but he wanted to kiss her, to make her smile wider. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I just-- If we can close the Breach, I’ll feel a lot better.”

”I think we all will,” Cullen said with a smile of his own. “You feeling better?”

”Yeah, I am,” Yana said, swiping at her face. “Thank you, Cullen.”

”Always,” Cullen promised, following his gut and leaning in to press a kiss to Yana’s temple. When he pulled back, her expression was shocked, but pleased-- but he couldn’t believe he’d done that. “I, ah-- Cassandra wanted me to--” He mumbled, gesturing towards the tents, cheeks heating before beating a hasty retreat.

He didn’t see Yana smiling to herself as he left.


	4. In Your Heart Shall Burn

Blackwall was working in the smithy when Zelyana came up to him; he glanced at her and nodded before returning to working on his sword for a moment. She waited patiently until he was finished; when he was done, he straightened, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I’ve been meaning to thank you,” he said. “There are a hundred things needing your attention, and you didn’t need to help me, but you did. So, thank you.”

Zelyana smiled. “You’re welcome; it’s important to preserve history, and if finding these artifacts can help with that, then I’ll do whatever I can.”

Blackwall couldn’t help but smile at that. “Still, it means a lot to me. It’s easy to see why everyone is kneeling at your feet-- me included.”

Yana’s grin turned devious and more than a little flirty. “Well, I could get used to having you there,” she purred. “At my every beck and call… Gives a woman _ideas_.”

Blackwall spluttered, the tops of his ears immediately burning red. “I, er, well, that is-- Maker, can we talk about something else?”

Yana laughed. “Very well, let’s talk about how oddly charming you are for a man I found wandering the woods,” she suggested.

”This isn’t much better,” Blackwall grumbled, ears still hot. “But I suppose I can take a compliment from a lady. They’re rather hard to come by these days.”

”Which? The compliments, or the ladies? I imagine you’d have plenty, with that beard, the voice, the manner…”

Blackwall chuckled. “Both, honestly; wandering the woods doesn’t usually lead to meeting very many women.”

”Well,” Yana said, her expression suddenly mischievous, “there’s more where that came from; I keep them in my _private quarters_.”

Blackwall choked on air. “Maker’s breath,” he coughed. “Can we please talk about something that isn’t you trying to kill me through flirting?”

Yana laughed. “Fine, fine,” she grinned. “Let’s talk about the Breach: We’re going up today to try to close it; I want you, Cassandra, and Dorian to come with me, just to be on the safe side.”

Blackwall inclined his head. “It would be an honor, my lady.”

”I wonder if you’d call me that with your head between my thighs?” Yana mused-- and if it wasn’t for the sly glance she threw Blackwall, he would have thought she’d been talking to herself. 

Blackwall rolled his eyes, ears growing hot once again. “You’re a menace,” he informed her, but there was a smile playing about his mouth. “I take back everything I said about admiring you.”

* * *

”Maker, it’s just as bad as I remember,” Yana mumbled to herself, staring up at the Breach. “I hope this works.”

”I believe it will,” Solas said confidently. “Focus simply on closing the Breach; the mages will push their power into the mark.”

Yana took a deep breath and nodded, making her way closer so that she could reach the Breach easier; dimly, she was aware of Solas and Cassandra instructing the mages, and then suddenly there was power all around her-- the Breach’s power and the mages’. The mages’ power connected with her mark, and Yana lifted her hand, concentrating on closing the Breach as she’d closed so many rifts, and she could feel it working, could _feel_ the mark knitting the Breach back together. When it was done, Yana was thrown back by the force, and she rolled with the impact, coming up on her hands and knees, wheezing slightly; she’d hit the ground hard enough to knock some of the breath from her lungs. A glance up confirmed that the Breach was gone, and Yana allowed herself a satisfied smile as the cheering started.

Back in Haven, Yana didn’t take part in the celebrations; the Breach may be closed, but there were still too many questions that needed to be answered. Footsteps approached, and when Yana looked over her shoulder, she saw that it was Cassandra. “Solas confirms that the heavens are scarred, but calm,” she announced. “We’ve reports of lingering rifts, but we can take care of those. The danger is past.”

”But our job isn’t done,” Yana finished. “It’s too soon to celebrate our complete victory; there are still a lot of questions to answer.”

”Yes, there are,” Cassandra agreed. “But I--” The Seeker was interrupted by the sound of the alarm bells ringing, and she and Yana exchanged glances before jumping down from the ledge they stood on and racing for the gates.

”Cullen!” Yana barked as she approached. “What’s going on?”

”There’s a huge force approaching, the bulk of it over the mountain,” Cullen reported.

”Under what banner?” Josephine asked, her expression horrified.

”None,” Cullen answered.”

” _None_?”

The sound of fighting on the other side of the gate caught Yana’s attention, and then a voice called out-- it sounded like a young boy. “I can’t come in unless you open!”

Yana shoved the gates open, to reveal a huge-- _Oh Maker, that’s Templar armor._ There was the sound of a blade sinking into flesh, and then the Templar crumbled to the ground, revealing a young man with a large hat. “I’m Cole,” he said, before Yana could say anything. “I came to warn you. The Elder One is coming-- you know him? He knows you, you took his mages. _There_.” Cole pointed to a nearby outcropping, just as a man and some… _thing_ appeared.

”I know that man,” Cullen said, frowning. “But the other one…”

”Cullen, give me a plan!” Yana snapped. “Anything!”

Cullen immediately snapped back. “Haven is no fortress,” he said, clearly thinking. “If we are to withstand this, we must control the battlefield.”

”Got it,” Yana said. “Trebuchets?”

”Avalanche,” Cullen answered immediately. “Turn them all to the mountain.”

”On it.” Yana gestured for Blackwall, Cassandra, and Dorian to follow her, and she unsheathed her daggers before running for the nearest trebuchet, where Templars were already approaching. Behind her, she could hear Cullen giving the mages full sanction to engage the enemy, but then she was too busy fighting to pay attention to anything else.

* * *

”Oh, _fuck_ ,” Blackwall swore, helping Zelyana to her feet. The Herald had gotten the worst of the blast, and Blackwall was pretty sure that she’d been hit by a piece of timber.

”Everyone, to the gates!” Zelyana ordered, and everyone hastened to obey-- but their attention was caught by Harrit, the blacksmith, who was attempting to get into his house. “Blackwall, help him!”

Blackwall drew his sword, reducing the boxes blocking the door to splinters in moments. “Thank you! Just grabbing essentials; I won’t die for the forge,” Harrit said, and Blackwall nodded before following his companions to the gate; Cullen was herding the last few people through before he locked the gate, but that wouldn’t hold against Templars for long.

”That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us,” he snarled, and Zelyana reached out, laying a hand on his arm; he paused, and sighed. “The only building that can stand against that-- _thing_ is the Chantry. At this point, just make them work for it,” he said flatly before running off to assist a wounded soldier.

Zelyana rubbed a hand across her face before turning to her companions. “You heard him,” she said firmly. “Let’s help as many people as we can before we head to the Chantry ourselves.”

There were quite a few people to help, as it turned out; the quartermaster, one of the Inquisition’s Templars, the shady merchant, Flissa the barmaid, and the Inquisition’s researcher and potionmaster. Once the last civilian was safe, the four compatriots headed for the Chantry, ushered in by Chancellor Roderick, who didn’t look too good. “He stood against a Templar,” that strange new boy informed them. “The blade went deep; he is going to die.”

”Charming boy,” the chancellor snorted.

Cullen was pacing, muttering to himself, and Zelyana broke from the group to go talk to him; something odd curdled in Blackwall’s chest at the blatant concern for the former Knight-Captain, but he buried it deep. He didn’t have any right to be _jealous_ over Zelyana. A bit of flirting didn’t mean anything. Zelyana and Cullen got into a heated discussion of whether or not to essentially kill themselves and everyone in Haven, but they were interrupted by Cole. “Chancellor Roderick knows something; he wants to say it before he dies.”

The arguing couple turned to the wounded chancellor, who explained that there was a path they could use to escape Haven, to get everyone out. Almost everyone. Zelyana turned to Cullen, her expression thoughtful. “Can you get them out?”

”I can,” Cullen confirmed, but he didn’t look too happy about it. “But you--”

”Will man the trebuchets,” she said firmly; they had a staring contest, and Cullen was the first to break.

”Perhaps you will surprise it, find a way--” he started desperately, but when Zelyana shook her head gently, his expression hardened and he turned to the soldiers hovering nearby, barking out instructions.

Zelyana watched him go, her expression sad, before it firmed up. “All right, I’m not going to make you go out with me,” she started, only to be cut off by Cassandra.

”We are not letting you go out there alone,” she said, her voice and stance broking no argument; when Zelyana looked to Blackwall, the Warden simply raised an eyebrow in answer. There was the briefest hint of a grateful smile aimed his way, and then Zelyana was squaring her shoulders.

“Right then; let’s go destroy Haven.”

* * *

They managed to turn the last trebuchet, and Yana ordered everyone to run; they managed to get out of the way, but Yana ran slower on purpose; this monster was here for her, and she would let it have her if it would keep Cullen, Blackwall, and everyone else safe. The rogue was thrown, hard, by the blast of energy from the dragon, and she rolled, groaning, to her feet; the dragon cut off her escape, and Yana backed up, eyes darting, looking for her daggers. She found them, and managed to grab the weapons and secure them to her belt before a voice was calling out, “ _Enough!_ ”

Yana whirled to face the newcomer, and she had to crane her neck to see his face. “Pretender,” he sneered. “You toy with forces beyond your ken; no more. I am here for what is mine.”

”You’ll have to take it from my cold, dead body,” Yana snarled, hands clenching into fists.

”That is the plan,” the monster said, voice confident as he pulled an orb from his robes; the orb began to pulse with a sickly red light, and Yana felt her mark begin to burn; it was pulling at her skin, the orb calling to it, and the pain made her knees crumple. She fell to the ground, clutching her left wrist with her other hand. “Tell me what this is!” she demanded. “The Divine died for this; why?”

The monster didn’t answer, instead stalking forward to grab Yana by the wrist and haul her up; her shoulder protested, but Yana just gritted her teeth. “I am Corypheus,” he snarled. “I spent a thousand years in the Fade, trapped and twisted-- but I gathered the power, the _will_ to return under nothing but my own name and will. I will give this world the god it requires, for I walked the halls of the Golden City, I saw the throne of the Gods, and it was _empty._ ” He threw Yana across the clearing; she hit the trebuchet hard enough to make her teeth rattle, and she shoved herself to her feet, grabbing a nearby sword and holding it out defensively. “The Anchor is permanent,” he growled. “You have spoiled it with your flailing and fumbling, using it to undo my work. So be it; I will kill you, and start again-- I will not be denied my right to power.”

A flare rising above the trees caught Yana’s attention, and she let out a sigh of relief. Everyone was out of Haven, was safe. “Enough!” she yelled. “You expect me to surrender, to lay down and die? Then your arrogance blinds you, you lyrium-riddled freak!” She kicked the lever for the trebuchet, launching its load through the air to crack against the mountainside, triggering the biggest avalanche of them all. Yana didn’t stay around to witness her handiwork, instead running for the edge of the platform and leaping off, falling through the air. Her head hit a board on the way down, and everything went dark.

* * *

Blackwall paced anxiously on the fringes of the camp; they’d made it down the valley of the other side of the mountains, and ever since the Herald had triggered the avalanche that buried Haven, the Warden had been on patrol, hoping against all odds that she’d survived. Blackwall was distracted by the sound of approaching footsteps; when a hand landed on his shoulder, Blackwall looked over to see Cullen standing next to him. “I’m worried about her, too,” Cullen confessed, looking at Blackwall briefly before turning his attention to the mountains. “She’s resourceful, and determined. If anyone could survive, it would be her.”

Blackwall sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I know,” he mumbled. “But I can’t help but worry. Maker’s breath, I’ve only known her for a week; how did she get under my skin so fast?”

Cullen laughed, but it wasn’t a mean laugh. “She does that to everyone,” he confided. “I’ve known her a little over a month, and yet…”

”And yet, you care for her, more than you think you should,” Blackwall finished. Cullen looked at him in surprise, and Blackwall smiled wryly. “I know the feeling.”

Cullen chuckled slightly. “She seems to have that effect on everyone, but you’re right. She’s taken a shine to you.”

”And to you,” Blackwall countered. “I saw what happened after we got back to Redcliffe, and in the Chantry after the dragon attacked. She cares greatly for you.”

”I am not the only one she cares greatly for,” Cullen replied. “After Redcliffe, she was very upset about whatever she saw in the vision-- she mentioned you by name.”

Blackwall was surprised by that; he hadn’t thought that he’d made that much of an impression on Zelyana. “I--”

”The Seeker and I were getting ready to head up the valley, see if perhaps we could figure out where we are; would you like to come with me?” Cullen offered.

Blackwall blinked, but nodded. “Better than--”

”Sitting here with your thumbs up your arse?” Cullen suggested, a small grin on his face.

Blackwall rolled his eyes, but he wore his own reluctant grin. “Better than that, yes.”

* * *

Cullen and Blackwall stayed close together as they patrolled, eyes peeled for any sign of their Herald, dead or alive. Anything would be better than wondering. They made it to the top of the ridge they were camped below when Cullen spotted something moving through the snow. “That’s too big to be a wolf,” he muttered, almost to himself.

”Too lean, as well,” Blackwall commented. “It looks like--”

As they’d been speaking, the figure had moved closer, and as it rounded a boulder, Cullen realized, “It’s Yana!”

”Thank the Maker,” Cassandra breathed as they charged up the hill.

”Blackwall, Cullen,” Yana said as they approached, falling to her knees. “Glad to see you survived.” She offered them a dopey, absent smile before pitching forward; Cullen lunged for her, catching her in time to keep her from faceplanting into the snow. 

”Blackwall, help me,” he ordered. “Cassandra, go back to camp, tell them we’ve found the Herald and she’s near-frozen.”

Cassandra nodded and took off as Blackwall approached, helping Cullen lift the cold body of their Herald. “You carry her,” he said, removing his pauldron and wrapping her in it. “You’ve longer legs, and will be able to carry her through the snow easier.”

Blackwall nodded, expression concerned as he adjusted his grip on Yana. “Help me keep her steady,” he requested. “I’ll need you to catch me if I trip; I don’t want to drop her.”

”Of course,” Cullen said, stepping closer. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Yana woke from dreams of swirling snow and glinting red eyes to the sound of arguing. She groaned, shifting slightly on her cot, and opened one eye to glare in the direction of the council. “They’ve been at it for hours,” she grumbled, and was startled when a light chuckle came from beside her; when she looked for the source, she found it in Mother Giselle.

”They have that luxury, thanks to you,” she explained gently. “Our leaders struggle because of what we survivors have witnessed: We saw our savior stand, and fall-- and now we have seen her _return_.”

Yana scoffed. “I’m no savior; I’m just a regular person in over her head.”

Mother Giselle shook her head. “You have done and been part of extraordinary things-- and the more those things happen to you, the more they begin to seem miraculous. If they are miraculous, then they seem ordained. That is hard to believe, no? What we have been called to witness; what we, perhaps, have been called to endure?”

Yana shook her head, pushing herself to her feet. “Believe what you want, but I know this: I felt no divine presence at either the Conclave or at that trebuchet. The burdens I face are mine alone to carry.” She rocked to her feet, one arm wrapped around her still-sore abdomen, and limped a few feet away to lean against a post, attempting to block out the sound of the arguing still coming from the campfire. A moment later, a soft voice started up.

_Shadows fall_

_And hope has fled._

_Steel your heart_

_The dawn will come._

_The night is long ___

_And the path is dark_

_Look to the sky_

_For one day soon_

_The dawn will come._

_The shepherd's lost_

_And his home is far ___

_Keep to the stars_

_The dawn will come_

_The night is long ___

_And the path is dark_

_Look to the sky_

_For one day soon_

_The dawn will come._

_Bare your blade_

_And raise it high_

_Stand your ground_

_The dawn will come_

_The night is long_

_And the path is dark_

_Look to the sky_

_For one day soon_

_The dawn will come._

By the end of the song, the entire camp had joined in, and they were all facing Yana-- some were even kneeling. It might have been nice, if Yana worshiped the Maker and thought she was the Herald of Andraste, but as it was it just made her uncomfortable and reminded her of what, exactly, was riding on her shoulders. Mother Giselle’s words, about how the Inquisition would help her shoulder the burden, didn’t help. At all. Honestly, Yana was actually grateful for Solas’s interruption.

His news, about the origins of the orb Corypheus had used to create and attempt to steal the Anchor, wasn’t entirely welcome, but at least they knew more about what they were facing. “People will want to blame elves for this if they find out,” she said after a moment. “We need to give them as much reason not to as possible.”

Solas inclined his head, conceding the point. “Lost in the wilderness, however, it will not matter. There is a place to the north, long abandoned, that the Inquisition can claim. It will be a good place to grow, to truly make your mark upon history.”

”What’s it called?” Yana asked, curious.

Solas’s smile was enigmatic, but Yana didn’t spend too long dwelling on it. “It is called Skyhold.”

* * *

It took several days to reach Skyhold; several long, tedious days trudging through the snow. Yana had split her time between all of her companions, reassuring herself that they were all okay-- and if anyone thought that she spent more time with Cullen and Blackwall, well, they were imagining things. When they finally reached their destination, Yana had to admit that Skyhold was quite the impressive sight. She helped everyone get settled, and when she finally had a moment to herself, she sank into a bath and didn’t move for _hours_.

Of course, she had to come out eventually-- and when she did, Cassandra was waiting for her. “Walk with me,” she requested. Yana nodded, and they headed up the steps. “The people exalt you even more, especially after what they witnessed with Corypheus. But the important thing is that now we know what your mark is, and why it drew Corypheus.”

Yana lifted her hand, examining the feature in question. “He wanted this to do something with the Fade,” she said after a moment. “Now that I am in possession of it, it’s useless to him, and he wants me dead.”

”That, too,” Cassandra agreed. “But you have done much for the Inquisition, and it is time we all acknowledge that.” They’d reached Leliana now, and the spymaster was holding out what looked like a ceremonial sword. Yana balked when she saw it.

”You’re not--”

”The Inquisition needs a leader,” Cassandra continued, as if Yana hadn’t spoken. “The one who has already been leading it: You.”

Yana glanced out over the gathered crowd below her, and she swallowed heavily. “Are you fucking insane?” she hissed, careful to keep her voice low. “They all think I’m some sort of holy figure!”

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “And they have seen what you have done,” she countered. “The people are loyal to you, and have chosen you.”

Yana glanced back over her shoulder; her gaze caught on Blackwall, and the open admiration and encouragement she saw there was enough to bolster her. She wasn’t going to get out of this, so she might as well accept gracefully. The former mercenary turned back to Leliana, resting one hand on the hilt of the sword. “This Inquisition will stand for order,” she announced. “And for the people of Thedas, first and foremost. We will restore order and protect the people from whatever threats arrive.”

”Wherever you lead us,” Cassandra agreed before turning to the gathered crowd. “Ambassador, have our people been told?”

”They have,” Josephine called back, her grin enormous. “And soon, the world!”

”Commander, will they follow?”

Cullen turned to the gathered crowd, raising one hand. “Inquisition! Will you follow?” A roar started from the crowd. “Will we triumph?” The roar grew, and Cullen unsheathed his sword, raising it high. “Then I present to you your Herald-- your _Inquisitor!_ ”

Yana took the ceremonial sword, raising it high, her expression hardening as she thought about what this meant.

She was going to defeat Corypheus.

He would pay.


	5. From the Ashes

Yana led the way up the steps and to Skyhold’s main hall; honestly, it was a wreck, with timber and rubble strewn everywhere-- there was even a chandelier lying twisted on the floor. “So this is where it begins,” Cullen mused from behind Yana, who was looking around, already seeing what this hall could be with some repairs.

”It began in the courtyard,” Leliana corrected. “This is where we turn that promise into action.”

”First things first,” Yana said, turning to face her council. “Are we safe here?”

Cullen nodded. “I haven’t had the chance to perform a full inspection yet, but already I can tell that Skyhold has the bones to withstand a direct assault. And after what you did with one trebuchet, I’d bet against a direct attack.” Cullen’s expression was proud, and Yana felt her cheeks heat slightly.

”Good,” she said. “Then I guess the next thing to do is determine our next step.”

”We need to look into the things you saw in that dark future,” Leliana said. “An army of demons and the assassination of Empress Celene? That deserves our attention.”

”I agree,” Yana said, shuddering slightly at the reminder of what happened in Redcliffe. “We can’t let those happen. Josephine, can you contact anyone in Orlais, see if there’s an upcoming ball or something where Celene might be vulnerable?”

”Of course, Inquisitor,” Josephine said, nodding.

”Good. We also need to look into this army of demons, and the disappearance of the Wardens still worries me.”

”I have a friend who can help with that last one.” Yana glanced over Leliana’s shoulder to see Varric picking his way through the rubble strewn over the main hall. “Everyone acting all inspirational and shit jogged my memory, so I sent a letter to an old friend. She should be here soon; she was already in the area.”

”Introduce us,” Yana said, curious. “I’m always looking for new allies.”

Varric glanced guiltily around him. “It’s… better if you meet somewhere secluded. The battlements, perhaps. Trust me, it’s complicated.” When Yana nodded, Varric left.

”I’ll see if my agents can find anything about this army of demons,” Leliana said.

”And I’ll send some letters inquiring about upcoming balls,” Josephine added.

”Good,” Yana said absently, looking thoughtfully after Varric. “I wonder who he’s brought.”

”I know one thing,” Leliana said, her voice sounding way too gleeful. “If he’s brought who I think he has, Cassandra is going to kill him.”

* * *

Blackwall had seen Zelyana emerge from the hall, coming down the steps, and had hastily turned towards the battlements, hoping that she wouldn’t come to him soon; he needed a few more moments to gather his courage. He could hear her talking to Vivienne and Sera, then her footsteps were approaching his. When she entered his line of sight, he sighed. “So this is Skyhold,” he said, resignation tinting his tone. “Come; I want to walk the battlements.”

He could hear the confusion in Zelyana’s tone when she acquiesced, but she followed him up the steps to the battlements easily enough. They walked a little ways down the walkway before Blackwall stopped, leaning against the wall. “Hell of a view; we’ll be able to see Corypheus coming from miles away.”

”And we’ll be ready,” Zelyana said, her tone hard. “We were caught off-guard in Haven, but I’m not running from here.”

Blackwall couldn’t help but smile. “That’s what I like about you, Zelyana.”

Zelyana gave him a thoughtful look. “Call me Yana,” she said, and Blackwall startled.

”I-- what?”

”Call me Yana,” she repeated. “I never liked my full name; I prefer my nickname.”

Blackwall swallowed, before nodding. “Yana,” he agreed. Then he pushed off of the wall, hands clenching into fists. “I swear, I will do whatever it takes to bring that twisted bastard down.”

Yana stepped forward, laying one hand on one of his fists. “And I’m not losing anymore people to Corypheus,” she countered, before her expression went both soft and hard at the same time. “Especially not you. I lost you to him once, and I got a second chance. I won’t lose you again.”

Blackwall swallowed, hating himself even more for what he was about to do. He pulled away from her, holding up his hands defensively. “My lady, don’t. You can’t afford to think I’m special; I’m a soldier, just like any other.”

Yana followed him, closing the distance between them. “You’re not,” she insisted. “Not to me. You’re not just any soldier; you’re _my_ soldier.”

Blackwall swallowed, taking several steps back. “Whatever this is between us can’t go any further,” he said, just as stubborn even though his resolve was crumbling.

Yana’s expression turned frustrated. “Why not?” she demanded. “I know you have feelings for me, and you know I do for you.”

”You’re the Inquisitor,” he said-- the truth, although he knew it was a weak defense. “And I am a Warden; our lives are not our own to live. The people must come first.”

He could see that Yana wanted to argue, but he didn’t give her the chance, instead simply walking away. He didn’t let himself look back, telling himself that this was truly for the best; Yana deserved someone better.

She deserved someone like Cullen.

* * *

Cullen had set up a temporary office until the tower that he’d selected as his was cleared; the temporary office was at the bottom of the stairs, across the yard from the main gate. It wasn’t even an office so much as it was just a table with papers strewn across it. “Are the barracks set up?” he asked, glancing at one of the men nearby.

”Yessir,” he answered, snapping to attention.

Cullen saw Yana coming down the steps from the corner of his eye, and he ordered the men off on some minor errands. “Busy already?” Yana asked, amused, watching the men scamper off.

”I won’t let us get caught off-guard again,” Cullen said fiercely. “I won’t let you down, Inquisitor.”

Yana’s expression shuttered at the title. “I am the Inquisitor, aren’t I?” she murmured, almost to herself.

”Yana?” Cullen asked, a little worried. “Is everything all right?”

The rogue gave herself a shake, and then offered Cullen a smile. “Yes, of course. I’m fine.” Cullen didn’t quite believe her, but he let the subject drop, at least for now. Yana’s expression went from shuttered to concerned, though, as she asked, “How many did we lose at Haven?”

Cullen sighed. “Thanks to Cole’s warning and Chancellor Roderick’s path, we were able to save almost everybody.”

”That’s good,” Yana said, relieved. “I wish we could have saved everyone, but…”

”But we saved a lot more than we might have,” Cullen finished; they were quiet for a moment before Cullen blurted, “You almost-- When the avalanche hit, I thought… I was worried for you. We all were-- I thought Blackwall was going to go out of his mind. And you survived, but you were so cold…” He sucked in a breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d died,” he confessed quietly.

He heard Yana take a step forward, and then she was wrapping her arms around him. “It’ll take a lot more than an avalanche to get rid of me,” she murmured, burying her face in his neck as he returned the embrace.

”I hope we won’t find out what it will take,” he muttered. They stayed like that for several long moments before they eventually pulled apart. Cullen was struck once again by the urge to kiss Yana, and before he could think better of it, he followed it-- he leaned forward and brushed a quick, chaste kiss across her lips. When he pulled back, her startled expression was enough to make him realize what he’d just done. “I-- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have--”

His babbling was cut off by Yana pressing a finger to his lips; he obligingly shut up while she thought. “I liked it,” was the first thing she said, “but for now-- I’m not looking for something quick, Cullen. And I-- There are a lot of things needing both of our attention right now. I’m not saying no,” she hastened to clarify. “I care about you a lot, Cullen, but there are… some things we need to talk about first, okay?” Cullen nodded, her finger still on his lips, and she smiled. “Okay. For right now, let’s focus on getting everyone settled in and the repairs on Skyhold started; how does that sound?” She removed her finger, her expression anxious.

Cullen smiled. “That sounds like a plan,” he agreed, grateful that she wasn’t outright rejecting him. He did have to wonder about these things Yana thought they needed to talk about, though. Something told him it was something more than just the level of discretion they’d need to employ if they entered a relationship.

* * *

It was hard to get her mind away from what had happened with both Blackwall and Cullen, but Yana did her best; she needed to focus on getting everything ready before she talked to Cullen. Honestly, that wasn’t a conversation that she was looking forward to, because there was a really high chance that that conversation would be the end to whatever was growing between them.

Yana caught sight of Varric on the battlements, and shoved all thoughts of anything that wasn’t related to the disappearance of the Wardens to the back of her mind. “You said you had a friend you wanted me to meet?” she asked, looking around.

Varric nodded to a space behind her. “Inquisitor, meet Hawke.”

”The Champion of Kirkwall,” Yana said, impressed; she threw a glance at Varric. “You do know that Cassandra will have your hide for this, right?”

Hawke shook her head. “I’ll talk to the Seeker,” she promised. “Varric was only trying to protect me.” Hawke and Varric exchanged smiles, and then Hawke squared her shoulders, turning to Yana. “So, you want to know about Corypheus? You’ve already dropped half a mountain on the git.”

Yana shrugged. “All we know is that he managed to corrupt the templars, he appears to control an Archdemon, and he’s really arrogant.”

”I don’t know much more than that,” Hawke admitted. “I do know that he is one of the oldest and most powerful darkspawn in existence-- he managed to control some Wardens. He took their minds, bent their wills to his. I’d thought we’d killed him for good, but obviously not. You know that the Wardens disappeared?” When Yana nodded, Hawke continued, “I’ve a friend in the Wardens; he was investigating something for me when the rest of them disappeared. He’s in Crestwood at the moment; meet me there, and we can talk to him together.”

”Sounds like a plan,” Yana conceded. “I need to meet with my advisors, but we’ll head to Crestwood as soon as we can.”

* * *

Yana found Josephine in a room off the main hall; workers were already clearing the rubble away, and scaffolds were being erected. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long for work to be completed.

”Inquisitor!” Josephine called. “We’re in luck; one of the ravens returned quickly with word of a grand masquerade being put on in Halamshiral. Empress Celene is hosting it to use for peace talks with Gaspard and Briala, the elven ambassador. Everyone in Orlais will be there; it’s the perfect place for an assassin to hide.”

”Halamshiral? Shit.” Yana had hoped never to set foot in that palace again, but… “Well, get us an invitation, Josephine; we need to stop this assassination.”

Josephine had looked at Yana curiously when she’d cursed, but the ambassador was too polite to pry. Yana was distracted by Cullen emerging from the hall that led to the war room; he gave her a smile before saying, “If the ball is being held in Halamshiral, then that place will be filled with vipers playing the Game.”

Yana made a face. “I know what Halamshiral is like,” she said. “And I know how to play the Game; I hate it, but I can play it. I’ll need to. I’m sure that my name is going to spark… some controversy.”

Apparently the mention of controversy won out over Josephine’s desire to be polite. “Controversy?” she demanded. “Inquisitor, what are you talking about?”

Yana sighed. “I killed someone the last time I was at Halamshiral,” she said bluntly. “Before I disowned myself from the rest of my family. It’s a story I’d rather not get into.”

Josephine nodded. “I’ll do what I can to keep things calm,” she said. “Hopefully nothing will get too out of hand.”

Yana offered Josephine a grateful smile. “Thank you, Josephine. We need this to go smoothly, but if we can just keep Orlais from falling into chaos, that will seriously hamper Corypheus.”

The meeting concluded quickly after that, just a few things that needed Yana’s input; Cullen stuck around, and when it was done, Yana gestured for the door. “Let’s go to my quarters,” she suggested. “We won’t be overheard there.”

* * *

Cullen followed Yana through the door and up the stairs to her quarters; they were spacious, and she had a really nice bed. “Josephine’s certainly spared no expense,” he noted. “Everyone has nice furniture.”

”Everyone’s doing important work,” Yana countered. “We all need our best nights’ sleep.”

”True enough,” Cullen conceded. He took a deep breath, and then decided to just go ahead and get this conversation started. “What did you wish to talk about? If I offended you by kissing you--”

”No, it’s not that,” Yana said hastily. “It’s-- Andraste’s ass, this is complicated.” She rubbed both hands over her face before drawing in her own deep breath and blowing it out slowly. “I meant what I said: I care about you, a lot. You’re not just a friend to me, Cullen, and I think I could love you. But… But you’re not the only one I feel that way about.”

Cullen wasn’t obtuse, no matter what his fellow Templar trainees had said. “You mean Blackwall.”

Yana startled, looking at him with wide eyes, before she let out a breathless chuckle. “I haven’t exactly been subtle, have I?” she conceded. “But I mean it: I care about you-- about both of you-- a lot. But Blackwall has… made his stance clear. But if you’re okay with not being the only one I care about, I’d like to give this-- us-- a shot.”

Honestly, Cullen wasn’t sure that he was okay with that; he’d seen the looks Blackwall had given Yana, had seen how much the Warden cared about her, and vice versa, but… But he also knew how he felt, and he knew that Yana wouldn’t lie to him about how she felt. “I can’t promise that I’m not completely okay with this,” he said honestly; Yana nodded, like she’d expected that. “But I do care about you, a lot. I think I could be okay with it, if you give me a bit of time to get used to it.” Yana’s expression had changed to something hopeful, and Cullen couldn’t help but smile. “I’d like to give us a chance; I think we could be good together.”

Yana’s expression switched from hopeful to disbelieving and then she was grinning, lunging forward to throw her arms around Cullen. “Thank you,” she said sincerely, pulling back to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you, thank you. I was so worried you wouldn’t be comfortable with that, with me caring for you and Blackwall, but you just--” Yana interrupted herself to kiss Cullen hard, and Cullen took the opportunity to frame Yana’s face in his hands, tilting her head just so so that their lips slotted perfectly together. The kiss gentled, turned sweeter, and when it broke, neither one of them went far.

”I care about you,” Cullen murmured. “And as long as you care for me, I’m yours.”


	6. Here Lies the Abyss, Part I

As much as Yana might have wished otherwise, she and Cullen couldn’t just waste the day away in her quarters; they both had duties to attend to, and eventually they had to go back to the rest of the Inquisition. Several days later found Yana making her rounds through the rest of her companions, ending with Leliana; Cullen was just leaving, and Yana reached out, brushing her hand against his with a soft smile-- and earning one in return-- before continuing to Leliana, who was holding a scroll. “The names of those we lost in Haven,” the spymaster said, voice heavy. “You must blame me for this.”

”Blame you?” Yana echoed, incredulous. “Leliana, we all saw who attacked us-- we know _exactly_ who to blame.”

”When the first of my agents went missing, I pulled the others back. If I’d left them out there, they could have found more information, bought us more time--”

”Or they could have died, and we would have been no better off,” Yana countered. “Caring about your agents and their safety is not a shortcoming, Leliana.”

”My agents know the risk, they know that the Inquisition may call upon them to give their lives,” Leliana snapped.

”Our men are not tools to be used and discarded,” Yana said firmly.

”But Corypheus--”

”We are better than Corypheus.” Yana and Leliana had a brief staring contest, until Leliana sighed.

”You are right.” She set the scroll in her hand down, exchanging it for another. “Scout Harding’s report; I’d sent her out before Haven to set up a camp in Crestwood, and she wants to speak with you as soon as you arrive.” 

Yana took the report, reading over it quickly. “I’ll get Blackwall, Dorian, and Cassandra, and we’ll head out as soon as we can get our things together,” she decided.

* * *

Blackwall pretended not to see when Cullen and Yana exchanged a quick kiss before Yana swung herself into the saddle of her odd horse; but of course, he did see it, and it lingered in his mind the whole journey to Crestwood. The whole reason he’d broken things off with Yana was so that she could be with someone better than he-- and obviously, she’d found that person in Cullen. Blackwall just hadn’t thought that it would be so quickly. He tried to tell himself that he was happy that she was happy, but there was a little voice in the back of his mind-- the voice of someone he’d tried to bury long ago-- that reminded him every so often that that just wasn’t true, that he still cared for her, still _wanted_ her just as much as he had before.

He kept his distance even after they arrived at Crestwood, wary of getting too close and letting something slip. He didn’t have any more of a right to want her for his own anymore-- not that he ever had. Honestly, Blackwall was glad of the chance to wade into fighting at Caer Bronach and then again in the caves beneath Old Crestwood, tearing into demons with a ferocity that brought a concerned look to Yana’s face-- although she didn’t comment on it, instead simply leading the way out of the caves. Blackwall wasn’t sure if he was grateful for that or not.

After discovering that the Mayor of Crestwood had done a runner, Yana had simply sent a raven to Leliana, ordering her to have her agents track him down and bring him to Skyhold for judgment. Once the raven was out of sight, Yana turned to her companions. “Let’s go find Hawke; she said her Warden friend was in a cave near Three Trout Pond.”

Shit. They were meeting a Warden? Blackwall hadn’t known that; he might have made up some excuse to stay at Skyhold if he had. Still, he didn’t say anything, merely nodding along with Cassandra and Dorian before they all mounted up and rode out. They ran into some wolves and got briefly side tracked by Red Templars, but soon enough they were at Three Trout Pond, taking care of a rift before beginning to look for Hawke-- they found her a bit up the shoreline and wasted no time dismounting and approaching the cave. “Good, you’re here,” Hawke said, leaning on her staff. “Stroud is in this cave; there’s quite a bit of blood in there, too. I think it’s from some bandits he chased off, though.”

Yana nodded. “All right, then; let’s go.”

The cave only went back a short way, and when they opened the door blocking the very back of the cave, they were greeted by the sharpened tip of a sword. “Who are you?” the man who could only be Warden Stroud demanded.

”Stroud, it’s okay,” Hawke said, reassuring him. “This is the Inquisitor and her companions; I brought them. They’re here to help with Corypheus.”

It seemed to work, and soon enough Yana had lured Stroud into divulging everything he knew: Namely, that the Wardens that had disappeared had fallen prey to a false Calling, and Blackwall felt his breath catch; Maker’s tears, a Warden hearing their Calling was usually gone within a few months, but no one panicked. Everyone experienced the Calling. But every fully-initiated Warden hearing it at once? “That would be chaos,” Blackwall breathed, stunned. “They could be trapped into doing anything desperate.”

Yana glanced back at him. “Did you hear it?” she asked, frowning slightly.

The lie caught in his throat, but Blackwall forced it out. “Yes. But I figured that if I was going to die anyway, I might as well do something meaningful.”

Yana’s expression turned contemplative before she turned back to Stroud, discussing their next step: Hawke and Stroud would track the Wardens down; Stroud had a lead they could follow up on, and they would contact the Inquisition when they’d found the Wardens and hopefully had a better idea of what was going on. Yana agreed to the plan, and the two groups parted ways, with Yana and her companions headed back to Skyhold.

When they arrived, Yana disappeared to meet with the council, and Blackwall retreated to the stables, debating with himself. It took him several days to make his decision-- several days during which he was constantly attempting to avoid Yana and Cullen, especially the both of them together-- but by the time Yana came down to the stables after meeting with the three new mysterious characters who’d shown up that afternoon, Blackwall had finally made his decision. “Ya-- Inquisitor, may I speak with you?” he called, poking his head out of the barn. He’d clearly caught Yana off-guard, but she nodded, approaching cautiously, her expression wary.

”What is it?” she asked, stopping a few feet away.

”I received word from an old friend that my maps missed a camp on the Storm Coast,” Blackwall explained. “I was wondering if you’d accompany me out there; this camp, I believe, holds something special.”

”Of course,” Yana said. “Do you want me to bring someone else for back up?”

Blackwall shook his head. “The area it’s in is pretty quiet; I think we’ll be fine on our own.”

”All right, then,” Yana said. “Let me know when you want to go.”

”I was thinking tomorrow; it shouldn’t be more than half a day’s ride.”

”Tomorrow, then,” Yana agreed.

* * *

Blackwall’s stomach spent the whole ride to the Storm Coast threatening to mutiny; that little voice in the back of his mind was screaming at him, demanding to know what he thought he was doing, but the warrior did his best to ignore that. If nothing else, he needed to tell Yana this-- she deserved to know the truth.

The camp was easy to find; Blackwall didn’t need the map, his memory was still clear, and he could still smell the stink of darkspawn blood on the ground like it was fresh. He could remember the terror, the confusion, and the determination of the aftermath just as clearly as they approached the decrepit hut. Once they dismounted, Blackwall led the way into the hut; he didn’t bother looking around for the ‘artifact’ they were here to find. Rather, he was looking for his courage-- courage he hadn’t possessed in years.

”Hey,” Yana said suddenly, yanking him from his thoughts. “This is a Warden-Constable’s badge-- it’s engraved with your name. Was this what you were trying to find?”

Blackwall turned to her, taking the badge with careful fingers; he turned it over, looking at the name engraved on the back-- but the name didn’t bring his own face to mind, but another, more honorable one. “How clumsy of me to have dropped it,” he murmured, all of his courage leaving him in a rush. “I traveled through here with a recruit; we were attacked by darkspawn, and he was killed. I suppose this must have come off in the fight.” His hand clenched around the badge, and he looked around. “This was my life, before I met you-- before you found me in the Hinterlands,” he said, finally turning to look at Yana once more. “Crumbling ruins, death-- I faced them all by myself, and I never had anyone beside me.”

Yana’s expression softened. “You’re not alone now, Blackwall,” she said gently. “You have the Inquisition-- you have _me._ "

Blackwall wanted to laugh at that, but instead he simply shook his head, saying, “I’m sorry, my lady-- I need to think. Perhaps we can talk at Skyhold?”

Yana’s voice betrayed her surprise. “Of course,” she said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Blackwall didn’t come talk to Yana until the day after their excursion; he waited for her in her quarters. He didn’t think he could do this where anyone could see. He’d spent the whole day agonizing, arguing with himself, but he couldn’t make this decision himself-- if he did, he’d make the wrong choice. He needed Yana to make the choice for him.

He waited on the balcony until he heard Yana come in; when he looked, she seemed surprised. “Well, I can’t say I wasn’t expecting you,” she said after a moment, offering him a smile. “What do you need, Blackwall?”

Blackwall snorted. “What I need is one thing-- I need you to end this, please. I tried to, but I can’t.” He took a deep breath, pushing off of the balcony wall and stepping towards her. “But what I want is for you to let this continue. It makes me a horrible man, but I want--” He couldn’t help himself, leaning in to kiss her, hands moving to grip her upper arms even as Yana’s braced against his chest. Just as he’d been the one to initiate it, Blackwall was the one to end it, all but pushing himself off of Yana, stepping back, shaking his head. “No, this is wrong-- I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn't even _be_ here.”

Yana didn’t reach for him; she simply stood where she was, her fingertips just barely brushing her lips. “You-- Blackwall, what is going on?”

Blackwall made a frustrated noise, running his hands through his hair. “I still care for you-- I always have. I tried not to, I tried to end this, and I couldn’t. But you’re with Cullen, and I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry.” He made to leave, but was stopped by Yana’s hand on his chest.

”You said you needed me to end this?” she asked, her expression calculating.

Blackwall nodded. “You need to end this, because I can’t,” he said honestly. “If you tell me you don’t want me, then I can move on. I can-- I can get by.”

The absolute last thing Blackwall would have thought to happen was Yana’s first reaction: She lunged forward, kissing him hard enough that their teeth clacked together. Blackwall froze, not getting the chance to kiss back before Yana was pulling back. “I _do_ want you,” she said, her expression conflicted. “And that’s the problem.”

Blackwall’s mind was only so much white noise. “But-- Cullen?”

”Is an amazing and understanding man,” Yana finished. “And I care for him-- but I care for you just as much.” Blackwall swallowed, hard.

”Then--?”

Yana sighed. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m with Cullen, but I like you too-- a lot more than people would say I should.”

Blackwall nodded. “I should go,” he said, making to leave once again.

He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or not that Yana didn’t stop him again.

* * *

The next morning found Cullen pacing in his office, debating with himself over whether or not to confront Blackwall over what Yana had confessed to him this morning: The night before, Blackwall had kissed her-- and she had kissed him. Honestly, the former Templar had been dreading something like this, because what was he supposed to do? He didn’t want to give Yana up, but at the same time-- shouldn’t he be more furious? He was a bit pissed, yes; he was possessive, so what? But he wasn’t furious, not the way he thought he should be. Yana had told him from the start that she cared for him _and_ Blackwall, and Cullen had clearly seen that the Warden returned her affections, even after he’d attempted breaking things off between them. So yes, Cullen was pissed-- but he wasn’t furious.

Cullen’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, and he paused. “Come in,” he called; he was pleasantly surprised to see that Blackwall was on the otherside. “Warden Blackwall; what I can help you with?”

Blackwall looked anxious, for some reason-- did he know that Yana had told Cullen what’d happened the night before? The Warden closed the door behind him, turning the lock. “I wanted to--” Blackwall started, but then blew out a frustrated breath. “I need to apologize to you. I… overstepped my bounds last night.”

Cullen decided to play dumb; it’d worked well for him in the past. “What do you mean? We didn’t speak last night.”

”I mean with Yana,” Blackwall said; he hesitated for a moment before blurting, “I kissed her.”

Cullen allowed himself to go completely still before repeating slowly, “You… kissed Yana?”

Blackwall drew himself up to his full height, his expression a mixture of resignation, determination, and a bit of defiance. “Yes, I did.”

Cullen kept up the facade for another moment before letting it break. “I know.”

That obviously threw Blackwall for a loops. “You-- know?”

Cullen nodded. “Yana told me; she told me before we started our relationship that she cared for both of us. And when you kissed her last night, she told me this morning. She also told me that she kissed you the second time.”

Blackwall obviously didn’t know what to do with this information; Cullen almost thought he’d broken the poor man. “I-- So, you’re not… mad?”

Cullen took a moment to formulate his response. “No, I’m not,” he finally decided on. “Like I said, Yana told me from the start that she cared for both of us-- and if you truly care for her as well, I won’t be the one to make her choose.”

”’Make her choose’?” Blackwall echoed, clearly confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cullen sighed, trying to figure out how he wanted to word what he was thinking. “Look, I care about her-- and you do, too, otherwise you wouldn’t have come and confessed to me. She cares about both of us; she told me before that she couldn’t say who she liked better, because we both have our strengths and weaknesses. If she agrees, then she doesn’t have to choose.”

It looked like he was finally getting through to Blackwall; realization was beginning to dawn on the other man’s face. “And you-- would be okay with that?”

”Yes,” Cullen said simply. “I want her happy-- and if being with both of us makes her happy, then I’m okay with that.”

Blackwall swallowed, glancing to the side as he thought; Cullen waited patiently. Eventually, the other warrior said, “If she agrees-- then I would like that.”

Cullen nodded. “If she agrees.”

* * *

”Do you two have no concept of privacy?” Yana demanded, hands on her hips after Blackwall and Cullen both entered her quarters without knocking. “Honestly, it would have served you two right if I’d been in here bathing or pleasuring myself.” She was rewarded by the flushes and near-identical slack-jawed looks that came over both men’s faces. “What is so important that you two felt the need to barge right in?”

Blackwall was the first to regain his composure. “I-- The commander and I had a… discussion earlier this morning.”

Yana raised an eyebrow, looking to Cullen. “Oh? What about, Cullen?”

The direct question seemed to snap the commander out of his thoughts, and his flush deepened before he cleared his throat. “About what happened between you and Blackwall last night,” he answered. “We-- have a suggestion.”

Yana immediately felt herself tense up with apprehension. “A suggestion?” she demanded, her apprehension making her voice sharper than she’d intended.

Cullen nodded. “You’ve been upfront with me since the beginning about how you feel,” he explained, “and I care about you-- and so does Blackwall. You’ve said before that you couldn’t choose, so--”

”So we won’t ask you to,” Blackwall finished.

Yana looked between them both, hope threatening to bloom in her chest. “You-- Are you serious? Because I swear on Andraste’s dimpled ass, if you’re joking, I will punt you both over this balcony and say it was an accident.”

Blackwall outright laughed at the threat, while Cullen went a bit paler than usual. “We’re not joking,” he hastened to reassure Yana. “We’re completely serious-- It’s unusual, yes, but we both are willing to give this a chance.”

Yana’s mouth opened and closed without her saying anything for a moment before she threw herself at both men, one arm around each. “Thank you,” she said, voice thick. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re really-- This is just-- thank you.” She felt them both wrap an arm around her, and she smiled, her eyes watering. She’d been so worried about this-- it wasn’t exactly a little thing, but it was compared to the other things facing her now. But to not have to worry about this? To not have to choose? It was a weight off of her back, a worry she didn’t have to shoulder any longer.

It was bliss.


	7. Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts

Honestly, Yana wished she could say that it was a simple matter to fall into this unconventional not-quite-three-way relationship. On the one hand, the physical aspect was no problem for her; she’d done a similar thing when working as a mercenary, when two of her colleagues had been attracted to both her and each other. No feelings had been involved, and so it had been a simple matter that whenever the mood struck, they’d find one or both of the others and have sex.

She hadn’t had sex with either Blackwall or Cullen-- the timing just hadn’t felt right-- and the men weren’t attracted to each other, so far as she could tell-- but that wasn’t the only difference. This time, there were emotions involved. Strong ones. In all honesty, Yana was fairly certain that she was falling in love with both of them; and the more time she spent with both men, the more certain she became.

She loved them both for different reasons; they were similar, but different enough for each to be their own person. Blackwall was harder to read, but that only made figuring out what was going on beneath that beard and behind those weary eyes that much more worth it. Cullen was practically an open book, wearing his heart upon his sleeve. Blackwall was gruff on the outside, but Yana had seen the way he was around the children and infirm; he carved small toys for the children, and did various little things to help the injured and sick feel better, to take their minds off of their injuries. Cullen was the one standing in the training grounds, among his men, instructing them and inspiring them to do better. He was the one who showed how proud he was, how much he cared, as easily as he breathed.

It was almost a full week after Blackwall and Cullen had presented their suggestion to her that Yana found Cullen in his office, leaning over his desk and staring at a lyrium infuser. “Cullen?” Yana asked, concerned, as she shut the door behind her.

Cullen drew in a slow, deep breath, releasing it just as slowly before he straightened. “I have something I need to tell you.” Yana waited patiently while he gathered his thoughts, only moving closer to take one of his hands in hers, squeezing slightly. He squeezed back, just once, before he continued. “I… am no longer taking lyrium. Some of the other Templars among our forces have followed my example. Lyrium grants templars their abilities, but it also controls them-- us. Some of those who try to quit taking it go mad-- others die. Most relapse into the addiction. After what happened in Kirkwall, what was revealed in the Circle there…” Cullen sighed, lifting his head to look Yana in the eye. “I cannot be part of that life any longer. I’ve asked Cassandra to watch me, as a neutral party. If she feels my ability to lead is compromised, then I will be relieved from duty.”

Yana was quiet for a moment before she asked quietly, “Are you in pain?”

Cullen sighed. “Nothing that I can’t handle,” he murmured.

”Thank you for telling me,” Yana said honestly, lifting one hand to cup Cullen’s cheek. “And I respect what you’re doing, and how hard it will be. You know I’m here for you, right?”

Cullen finally smiled, leaning into Yana’s touch. “I know. And I am so very grateful for that.”

Yana leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Cullen’s lips before pulling back and giving his hand another squeeze. “Come on,” she encouraged. “Josephine bought a lovely chess set-- it’s been set up in the gardens. I want to try it out; it’s been forever since I’ve played chess.”

”I’ve reports to file,” Cullen started, but Yana knew she had him when he didn’t even bother looking at his desk.

”Unless Sera lights them on fire, those reports will still be here when you come back,” she reasoned. “Come on, Commander-- as Inquisitor, I’m releasing you from your duties for as long as it takes for one of us to beat the other in chess.”

Cullen laughed, shaking his head. “As you wish, Inquisitor,” he said, sketching a mock bow before following Yana from the office, the box with the lyrium infuser left behind, forgotten.

* * *

When Cullen returned to his office, he found that someone-- and Cullen didn’t bother guessing who-- had hidden his lyrium infuser. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful or not for that, and so he decided to put it from his mind, going to file the reports he’d procrastinated on. He couldn’t regret the procrastination, however, not when it had been in the form of a very enjoyable chess game; the Inquisitor had played fiercely, and it had very nearly come to a stalemate before Yana managed to trap his king and rook with her queen-- and Cullen laughed quietly to himself as the parallel to reality suddenly struck him. He and Blackwall, trapped by Yana’s allure. Not for the first time, Cullen found himself thinking about the Grey Warden; he was an enigma of a man, but respectable. He protected the people, the innocents, and cared for them in his own gruff manner. He was a good man, and a good soldier. Cullen rather admired him; he’d almost chosen to wait to join the Grey Wardens, but in the end he’d chosen the Templars. Part of him wondered how different his life would have been if he’d chosen the Wardens; would he have met Blackwall earlier? Perhaps he would have trained under him, fought beside him in the Fifth Blight…

The sound of knocking interrupted his thoughts; when Cullen granted access, the intruder was revealed to be a runner; the Inquisitor had called a meeting in the war room, and Cullen was needed at once. Cullen gave his office a quick once-over to make sure that everything was in order, and then followed the runner to the war room; he hoped that Josephine had managed to arrange that invitation to the ball at the Winter Palace that Yana had asked for at the last meeting. The sooner they stopped this assassination, the better.

* * *

Blackwall looked up, smiling when Yana walked through the barn doors. “My lady,” he greeted, looking up from the griffon rocking-horse he was working on; he set his tools aside in favor of pulling Yana into a kiss, still marveling that he was _allowed_ to do such a thing. He could feel Yana smile against his lips before she was kissing back; they parted with a soft sound, but Blackwall didn’t let her get far. A quick examination of her expression made Blackwall frown slightly. “Something is bothering you,” he stated.

Yana sighed. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” she asked wryly. “It’s Cullen; you know he was a Templar?” When Blackwall nodded, she revealed, “He’s no longer taking lyrium; hasn’t been for months. I think the withdrawal is starting to get to him.”

Blackwall had heard the stories of Templars who were cut off from lyrium, and for Cullen to choose that path… Well, Blackwall respected him even more now. “I see,” he said, feeling a bit lost; how could he help with that?

”I’m not asking you to do anything about it,” Yana said hastily, glancing around guiltily. “But please don’t tell anyone I told you? I don’t think he wants it to be common knowledge. But I just-- I needed to talk to someone about it--”

”Who wasn’t him,” Blackwall finished, nodding understandingly. “I get it. You can talk to me about it anytime; I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

Yana’s expression went grateful, and she leaned forward to kiss him; Blackwall savored it, as he did every kiss. “Thank you,” she murmured against his lips. “I really appreciate that.”

Yana spent the next few hours at the stables, cleaning stalls and grooming her horse-- “Hey, he’s dead, but he still needs to look good!”-- before being called away on Inquisitor business. She gave Blackwall, still carving, a kiss on the cheek as she left, and just that little bit of affection gave him a smile that stayed for the rest of the day.

The next day, however, he didn’t have much reason to smile-- Yana was leaving, going to the Fallow Mire, and she wasn’t taking him. Blackwall could understand her reasoning-- the Fallow Mire was notorious for being filled with walking corpses, so the more fire magic she had on her side, the better-- but that didn’t mean he felt any better watching her ride out the gates accompanied by Dorian, Vivienne, and Cassandra. He-- well, he didn’t want to say that he moped, but he did mope around Skyhold for most of the day.

Eventually, he kicked himself out of the stables; Horsemaster Dennet was giving him some really scary glares. He found himself at the training grounds, but when he realized that Commander Cullen was conspicuously absent, he remembered what Yana had told him the day before. Worry tugged at his gut, and he found himself climbing the steps to the tower Cullen had claimed for his office and private quarters. When he knocked on the door and didn’t get an answer, Blackwall opened the door himself. “Cul-- _Shit!_ ” He ducked away from the flying glass; when he looked down, he recognized what had been the head of a lyrium infuser.

”Oh, Maker’s breath!” Cullen exclaimed; when Blackwall looked up, his expression was stricken. “I’m sorry, Blackwall, I didn’t see you there.” The former Templar made to walk around his desk, but stumbled-- he caught himself, but not before Blackwall had lunged forward several steps, leaving them only a few feet apart.

”Long as you weren’t aiming for me, I’m sure the contraption had it coming,” Blackwall said, attempting to joke-- but when it didn’t get a response, Blackwall sobered. “Cullen, talk to me. What’s going on? Yana said--”

”Yana told you about this?” Cullen asked sharply.

”She’s worried about you, and needed someone to talk to,” Blackwall said patiently. “No one else has been told.”

Cullen sucked in a breath, letting it out as he nodded. “Of course; forgive me, I shouldn’t have snapped.”

”Is it bad, today?” Blackwall asked carefully.

”No. Yes. I don’t know,” Cullen muttered, scrubbing at his face with one hand, still leaning against his desk with the other. He pushed off of it abruptly, turning to pace to his window. “Did you know Fereldan’s Circle was overtaken by abominations?” he asked, not looking at Blackwall. “I was there,” he continued, not waiting for an answer. “The Templars-- _my friends_ \-- were slaughtered. I was tortured. The abominations, they tried to break my mind, and I-- how can you be the same person after that?” Cullen’s voice had taken on a desperate edge, and Blackwall stepped forward, laying a hand on the commander’s shoulder.

”You can’t,” he said simply; he hadn’t been tortured by other people, but Blackwall knew what it felt like. He knew what it did to a person.

Cullen briefly leaned into the touch before turning to face Blackwall. “I still wanted to serve,” he confessed. “I still believed in the Templar Order. So, they sent me to Kirkwall. I _trusted_ my Knight-Commander, and she-- Her hatred and fear of mages ended in madness and the start of the mage rebellion. Kirkwall’s Circle fell, and innocent people died in the streets. I want _nothing_ more to do with that life!”

Before Blackwall could say anything, Cullen was off again, pacing down the wall. “I thought this would be better-- I thought that _I_ could be better. But these thoughts won’t _leave_! How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause-- I won’t give less to the Inquisition than I did to the Chantry!” There was a _thud_ , the sound of wood rattling against stone, and a book falling off of its shelf as Cullen slammed his fist against the bookshelf. “I should be taking it,” he muttered, his entire body slumping. “I should be taking it.” His voice gave away how defeated he felt, and Blackwall wasn’t going to stand for that.

He moved to stand in front of Cullen, gripping the other man by the upper arms and forcing him to meet Blackwall’s gaze. “No, you shouldn’t,” he said fiercely. “You quit taking it for a good reason, Cullen. You give more than enough to the Inquisition-- no one is asking you to give more. I won’t, and Yana most certainly won’t. The Inquisition can be your chance to start over, if you let it. You’re a strong man, Cullen, and more than that, you’re a _good_ man. You don’t need the lyrium to prove that to anyone.”

Cullen’s eyes fell closed, and his breathing deepened; Blackwall waited him out. “You’re right,” Cullen said, still not looking up. “You’re right; I’m sorry, I--”

Blackwall gave him a slight shake. “No; you don’t need to apologize. Not to me, not to Yana, not to anyone. Everyone is allowed their troubles, and you are no different.” He waited until Cullen had nodded before he straightened, giving Cullen’s arm a reassuring squeeze before he let his hands drop. “If you need to talk to anyone, both Yana and I will be willing to listen.”

”Thank you,” Cullen said. “I-- That means a lot. So, thank you.”

Blackwall nodded. “If you need a distraction, I’m always up for running drills or something,” he offered.

Cullen gave him a tired smile. “Thank you; I’ll keep that in mind. For now, I think I just… need to be alone.”

Blackwall inclined his head. “Of course. You know where to find me.”

* * *

When Yana returned from the Fallow Mire, the first thing she did was get a bath. She _still_ had bits of blood and guts on her, sticking to her hair, despite numerous creekside baths. Once that had been taken care of, and her armor scrubbed, Yana realized that she hadn’t been greeted by either Blackwall or Cullen-- which she found odd. Blackwall certainly hadn’t been happy to be left behind, and Cullen never was.

A few inquiries pointed her to the stables, and when she made her way down there, the sound of swords clashing reached her ears. Frowning, Yana hurried up-- and she found Blackwall and Cullen sparring in the barn, Blackwall apparently leading Cullen through a few routine drills. Yana paused, watching her lovers working together, moving fluidly through the motions. She didn’t say anything until they were done, and then she moved forward, throwing her arms around them both. “Are you two playing nice?” she asked, grinning.

Cullen startled, but Blackwall just laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Just running through some drills,” he answered. “Cullen needed a distraction.”

Yana glanced to Cullen, who was flushed and not quite meeting her eye. “Withdrawal?” she asked gently. When he nodded, she gave him a one-armed hug, brushing a quick kiss over his cheek. “I’m glad you don’t have to go through that alone when I’m not here.”

Cullen smiled, glancing at Blackwall. “It’s nice, not relying entirely on myself,” he confessed. 

Blackwall offered Cullen a nod, and Yana gave them both smiles. “Well, this is touching and all,” she said teasingly, “but I’m starving. Who wants to eat at the tavern?”

Both men agree, and Yana walks out between them, her left hand held in Blackwall’s, her right in Cullen’s.

* * *

”Inquisitor; may I speak with you?”

Yana paused as she passed Josephine’s desk. “Of course,” she said, turning to face the ambassador.

”I’ve managed to arrange an invitation to the Winter Palace,” Josephine started. “If you call the council, we can discuss our plan.”

Yana grinned. “Finally. Let’s go foil an assassination.”

* * *

Their invitation came from Grand Duke Gaspard-- the man responsible for the civil war currently plaguing Orlais. Josephine was explaining the situation as they approached the front gates. “Empress Celene is hoping to use tonight’s masquerade to host peace talks, to attempt to solve this without further bloodshed. Grand Duke Gaspard apparently refuses to settle for anything less than the throne; by inviting us, he has created unrest and whispers that Celene will now have to combat as well as manage the peace talks. So, whether we act as his allies or no, he gains an advantage over his cousin. The masquerade was Gaspard’s sister, Florianne’s, idea. On the subject of your scandal, I’ve done everything I can to try to dissociate you from whatever happened years ago. It would help if I knew exactly what happened--”

”Unless it becomes necessary for anyone else to know, I won’t tell,” Yana said firmly. “That is a chapter of my life that I’d like to leave behind.”

Josephine sighed. “Very well; Gaspard will meet us at the gates, and you and he will be announced together in the ballroom.”

Yana nodded. “Thank you, Josephine,” she said. “I’ll do my best to keep things as even and quiet as possible.”

”That would be appreciated,” Josephine said dryly.

Yana spoke with Gaspard, and decided that she didn’t like him very much, but she was careful not to let that show, instead being as courteous as she knew how to be. When Gaspard left with the promise to meet her before they entered the ballroom, Yana spent a few minutes exploring; she helped a young lady find her ring, eavesdropped on a couple of nobles and picked up a few secrets for Leliana, as well as pocketed a small halla statuette; who knew when it would come in handy?

When she was ready, she headed into the vestibule, meeting the Grand Duke outside the doors. She took a deep breath, following him into the ballroom. The announcement of Yana’s name-- “Presenting Lady Inquisitor Zelyana Trevelyan”-- elicited a swarm of whispers and shocked exclamations. Gaspard was pleased with the reaction, but it set Yana on edge, and she desperately wished she had her daggers on her; she would feel a lot safer with their weight on her hips. The brief conversation with Celene went well, but there was something about Florianne that just struck Yana as wrong.

Honestly, Yana should have seen what happened after the conversation with Celene coming. She was stopped by an older woman’s fan, and when she turned to find the source, she found herself face-to-face with the very relative who’d hosted her family all those years ago: Lady Avelina Mountsimon. While Yana was frozen in shock, Lady Mountsimon said, too loudly to be an accident, “How _dare_ you show your face here, after what you did to my nephew?” She drew the attention of every nearby noble, and Yana drew herself up.

”My _brother_ had it coming, as you well know,” she said stiffly. “The abuse he perpetrated had been carrying on for years; he committed several of those inside your house while we stayed here over a decade ago. If you’ll excuse me, ma’am, I must speak with my advisors.” It wasn’t even a lie; thanks to her aunt’s little show, it was now necessary for Yana to tell Josephine the entire story.

* * *

Cullen hastened to meet Yana and Josephine in the Hall of Heroes when he received the note from one of Leliana’s men. He found them near Blackwall, and when he arrived, found Blackwall holding Yana; he looked from Blackwall to Josephine in confusion, but both shook their heads. Yana disentangled herself from Blackwall, going to give Cullen a lingering hug; when she pulled back, she had a determined expression on her face. “My aunt, Lady Mountsimon, is here today; thanks to her, I need to tell you what happened the last time I was here.” The other three exchanged glances, but didn’t say anything as Yana took a deep, steadying breath, and began. “I had an older brother; Revorn Trevelyan. He was… not a nice man. He constantly made lewd comments about all of our servants, and when he was old enough, he started assaulting them. Lord and Lady Trevelyan didn’t know what was going on; the servants were terrified of my brother, for good reason. He was a good fighter, a good duelist, and he threatened every servant he assaulted.

”Just over a decade ago, we were invited to stay with my aunt, Lady Mountsimon, and to attend a ball at the Winter Palace as her guests. One of my friends came along with us; she was the daughter of another minor noble, and had been dying to go to Orlais, so I requested permission to bring her. It was granted.” Yana paused, seemed to struggle with her words, before continuing, “You have to understand, I never learned to fight like my brother did; Mother and Father didn’t think I should learn to duel. So I learned from the blacksmith; he taught me how to shoot a bow and arrow, and his apprentice taught me to dance with daggers. They helped convince the dwarven merchant who made the daggers I have now to sell them to me.

”So when I found Alicia in her room, dress torn and crying, I asked her what happened. She confessed that Revorn raped her, and I saw red. But I couldn’t challenge him to a duel; he’d wipe the floor with me. So instead, I came here, stormed into the ballroom shouting accusations, walked right up to him, and gutted him.” Cullen sucked in a breath while Josephine went green and Blackwall froze. “I let everyone there know what he’d done-- what he had been doing-- and then I killed him. I gutted him and slit his throat, disowned myself in front of the entire Orlesian court, and walked out while he was still bleeding onto the dance floor tiles. I was recruited by a mercenary captain as I walked out the doors, and I never looked back.”

”Shit.”

Cullen glanced at Josephine in surprise; he’d never heard the ambassador curse before. “That’s why you didn’t want to come here,” he said after a moment. “Because people would still remember something like that.”

Yana nodded. “I don’t regret it, and if given the chance, I’d do the same thing. I am sorry, however, that this is going to make our job that much harder tonight.”

”Your brother was a dick,” Blackwall said abruptly, surprising everyone. “And if anyone asks me about it, I’ll tell them the same thing.”

”I agree,” Cullen said. “Except I might phrase it a bit more tactfully.”

Yana, Cullen, and Blackwall turned to Josephine, who sighed. “What’s done is done,” she said finally. “And I cannot change the past. Just, try not to kill anyone this time, please?”

Yana let out a relieved bark of a laugh. “I’ll do my best,” she conceded. Josephine nodded and left, but Yana turned to the two men. “You’re really okay with this?”

Cullen was the first to answer. “While I don’t condone vigilante justice… I understand why you did what you did, and I can’t condemn you for it.”

”I’m all for vigilante justice,” Blackwall contradicted. “And I fully support what you did-- although now that you’re the Inquisitor, it might be harder for you to get away with doing something similar now.”

Yana shook her head. “With any luck, I won’t have to.”

* * *

Blackwall spent most of his night in the Hall of Heroes, away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the court; Yana hadn’t come to get him yet, so he didn’t have much to do. Until, that is, Yana came to visit him. “I haven’t found much of anything yet,” she said first, “though I’m getting ready to head into the library above the gardens; I might find something there. I need you to do me a favor, though.”

Blackwall inclined his head. “Anything, my lady.”

”I want you to rescue Cullen.”

Blackwall blinked. “Come again?”

”He’s being plagued by all those vapid women of the court, and since climbing him like a tree wouldn’t help anything, I want you to at least get him away from them, give him a chance to breathe without sucking in a lungful of perfume,” Yana elaborated. “Claim important Inquisition shit, whatever, just get him out somewhere where he can relax for a moment.”

Blackwall chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said; he could sympathize with Cullen’s plight. That was part of the reason why he was hiding out in this out-of-the-way hall after all.

* * *

_Maker’s breath, these women are relentless!_ Cullen glanced around, uncomfortable, but Yana had disappeared,off to investigate some part of the palace, and everyone else who had accompanied them had--

”Blackwall!” Cullen would be embarrassed about the relief he heard in his own voice later. “I thought you were hiding; what are you doing here?”

Blackwall pasted on a cheerful smile, flashing it at the ladies still flocked around Cullen. “I beg your pardon, my ladies, but I’m afraid I must steal the Commander for important Inquisition shit.” With that, he bodily dragged Cullen away-- not that Cullen was resisting. He could hear the gasps and mutters about Blackwall’s language, but as long as the Warden took him _away_ from them, he didn’t care. “Through here,” Blackwall said abruptly, ducking through what looked like a servant’s passage; it led to a small secluded courtyard, and Cullen let himself drop heavily to a bench.

”Thank you,” he said fervently. “Seriously, I don’t know what--”

Blackwall laughed. “Don’t thank me,” he grinned. “Thank Yana; she asked me to get you away from those vultures.”

Cullen snorted. “Do I want to know what her plan was?” he joked, although he had a pretty good idea of what it was.

”Josephine wouldn’t have been happy with her if she’d gone through with it,” Blackwall said, shaking his head. “It wouldn’t look too good for the Inquisitor to start making out with the commander of the Inquisition’s forces.”

Cullen felt himself flush at the thought. “Well, thank you for intervening, then,” he said, unable to look Blackwall in the eye.

”It’s no trouble,” Blackwall said dismissively. “I wasn’t doing anything besides staring at statues, anyway.”

”Still,” Cullen insisted. “Thank you.”

Blackwall rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine; you’re welcome. Happy?”

Cullen grinned. “Yes, yes I am.”

There was a moment of silence before Blackwall started asking Cullen questions about how some of his new recruits were coming along, and from there the conversation flowed easily until a runner from Leliana came, informing them that Yana needed Blackwall; they were going into the servant’s quarters and the Inquisitor wanted back-up. Cullen watched Blackwall go, anxiety making his stomach clench-- but the odd thing was, it wasn’t just anxiety for Yana’s safety.

* * *

By the end of the night, Yana was well and truly sick of Orlesian nobles and their stupid Game. As she marched back through the hall to the ballroom after closing the rift and defeating Florianne’s assassins, Yana could feel a familiar rage boiling inside of her-- rage against Corypheus and his agents and rage at nobles who didn’t care about anyone but themselves. She was broken from her thoughts by Cullen catching her right as she entered the ballroom; he wanted to know the plan, and when Yana caught Florianne’s eye across the ballroom, Yana knew what she was about to do. “Station your men around the ballroom; I’m going to confront the Grand Duchess.” Maker bless Cullen; all he did was nod before following her orders.

Yana marched down the steps and strode across the dance floor, catching the duchess as she topped the first flight of stairs. “We owe the court one more dance, your Grace,” she called out, climbing the stairs so that she could stand in front of Florianne. “Smile, my dear-- the eyes of the entire court are upon you.”

Florianne’s eyes darted around frantically, looking for a way out even as she stalled, “Who wouldn’t be delighted to see you, Inquisitor?”

Yana raised one eyebrow, clasping her hands behind her back as she walked a slow circle around the duchess. “I believe you wouldn’t be; I seem to recall you telling me only moments ago that you only needed to keep me distracted long enough for you to strike.” There were gasps around the ballroom, but Yana ignored them. “When your mercenaries failed to kill me in the courtyard, I was afraid that you wouldn’t save this dance for me; I did so enjoy our first.” The Inquisitor came to a stop in front of the Grand Duchess, staring her down. “What a perfect opportunity for you; all of your enemies in one place, ready to be cut down with a single stroke-- ready to be the fodder for Corypheus’s march.” There were even more gasps, and Florianne turned to her brother, desperate-- but he turned away. 

When Florianne attempted to ask her cousin for support, Celene merely shook her head. “You will receive no support from me,” she said, her voice cold.

As guards approached, Yana unsheathed one of her daggers. “My apologies to the cleaning staff, but I’m not about to let another monster get away.” In one swift motion, Yana flipped her dagger, dragging it across Florianne’s throat and ducking the spray of blood; she watched dispassionately, sheathing her dagger, as the body of the Grand Duchess and would-be assassin fell to the ground. Then she looked up, meeting the Empress’s gaze. “Your Imperial Majesty, I believe it would be best if we could speak in private,” she said, ignoring the murmurs behind her as she climbed the steps and led the way to the balcony, where the fate of Orlais would shortly be determined.

* * *

Blackwall had made his way around the ballroom to the balcony; he waited as Yana made her speech with the Empress and Ambassdor-- now Marquisse-- Briala, and then as she was waylaid by the witch, Morrigan. Cullen stood beside him, and the two men exchanged glances before leaving the ballroom behind, stepping out onto the balcony. They were greeted by the sight of their Inquisitor leaning against the balcony railing, and they both stepped up, one to each side. “Are you all right?” Blackwall asked, voice gentle.

Yana sighed, dragging her hands through her hair. “I don’t know. I’ve killed plenty of people before-- but since Revorn, I haven’t killed someone in cold blood. Killing Florianne… That felt too close to it.”

”She would have killed the Empress,” Cullen reasoned, sliding closer to Yana and wrapping one arm around her waist. “And given Corypheus the opening he needed to take over Orlais-- you stopped that.”

Blackwall mirrored the movement, his arm resting just above Cullen’s, his hand brushing over the opposite side. “He’s right,” Blackwall agreed. “You helped save Orlais tonight-- Corypheus won’t be able to take it over easily, if at all.”

Yana offered Blackwall and Cullen a weary smile. “Well, I suppose you’re right,” she agreed reluctantly. “Doesn’t make me feel much better, but you’re right.”

Blackwall would take what he could get; inside the ballroom, the band was striking up a waltz, and the Warden gave Yana a nudge. “Would you like a distraction?” he offered.

Yana thought it over for a moment before shaking her head. “I just want company.”

Blackwall and Cullen exchanged another glance before they both settled into their previous positions. “We can manage that,” Cullen murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to Yana’s temple.


	8. Here Lies the Abyss, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, idk where the porn came from, but it's terrible this time. Oops.

It was a week after Halamshiral that they finally heard back from Hawke and Stroud. A week filled with both Yana and Cullen-- Blackwall was still helping the former Templar deal with his withdrawal, although a couple of times Cullen had simply claimed to be bored. Yana was always happy when she caught them sparring in the barn, often settling on a hay bale to watch. Cullen had managed to coax her into joining once, and Yana had agreed-- so long as she could use her daggers. Cullen had accepted the challenge, clearly expecting it to be easy, and Blackwall had ended up startling the horses and dracolisks resting in their stalls with his laughter as he’d tried to prop himself up against a beam; Yana had put Cullen on his back within seconds, and was currently straddling him with the back of one dagger at his throat, the other pinning his sword arm to his side. The expression on the commander’s face was priceless. Yana was smirking down at him while Cullen stared at her with an astonished expression on his face; Blackwall stored the image for later. For when he needed a good laugh.

Blackwall was feeding his Sharp-Tail dracolisk when Yana gave him the news about Hawke and Stroud’s discovery. “I can’t believe how much you’ve bonded to that thing,” she said, voice betraying her amusement even as she shook her head. “I swear that you’re the only one she likes.” The truth of that statement was punctuated by the dracolisk abruptly hissing and lunging for Yana, who’d laid her hand on Blackwall’s shoulder; Blackwall smacked the dracolisk with the flat of the knife he’d been using to cut off cubes of raw meat for her, and the dracolisk pulled back, giving him a wounded look that he ignored.

”You know better,” he informed the dracolisk.

Behind him, he could almost _hear_ Yana rolling her eyes. “Careful, Blackwall, or I might get jealous,” she teased.

Blackwall laughed. “You’re my number one girl,” he said, turning to give Yana a kiss on the cheek; he was rewarded with a fond smile and a proper kiss. Behind them, the dracolisk managed to sound disgusted, reaching out to snatch the last hunk of meat from Blackwall’s hand, tossing it back. Blackwall just rolled his eyes, heading back to the main barn to clean his knife. “So, did you come down here merely for the pleasure of my company?”

”Partly,” Yana said with a grin. “The other part is to tell you that we’ve received a raven from Hawke and Stroud; they’ve tracked the Wardens to the Western Approach. We’re riding out tomorrow to meet up with them, and I want you with me.”

Blackwall nodded. “I’ll come,” he said. “I want to find out why the Wardens disappeared, and what this false Calling could be driving them to do.”

Yana’s expression was troubled. “That’s just it; if they’re all hearing it… Whatever they could be up to could have disastrous consequences for Thedas.”

Blackwall nodded in agreement. “Hopefully we’ll find answers in the Approach.”

* * *

Almost immediately after they entered the Western Approach, they were attacked by White Claw Raiders; Yana had worked with them briefly several years ago, but thankfully these guys were all new recruits and easily taken care of. Apparently they were no better trained than they had been when Yana had been around. As they were rounding the path by the sulphur pits, Yana heard a sound that she’d hoped never to hear again: the roar of a High Dragon. She pulled her horse up short, looking around frantically, and she spotted the High Dragon right as the dragon spotted them; this time the roar wasn’t a hunting roar, but rather one full of fury.

” _Everybody fucking run!_ ” Yana yelled, spurring her horse straight into a gallop; she could hear the hoofbeats of her companions’ mounts behind her, and she didn’t look back until they were drawing up under a ledge, the mounts all panting heavily.

Everything was quiet until the beating of the dragon’s wings was just a thrum in the distance, and then Dorian was demanding, “What the _hell_ was that about? That dragon seemed to recognize you.”

Yana blew out a breath. “Yeah, that’s because it did. I used to work for the White Claws several years ago, and they’ve had an obsession with that dragon for as long as they’ve been in the area.”

”That doesn’t explain how mad it sounded,” Cassandra said flatly.

Yana sighed before admitting, “I was part of the only group that managed to trap it once; she killed the rest of the group when they got cocky and approached her. I ended up cutting her loose, but apparently that wasn’t enough to make her forgive me.”

”Will she hunt us down?”

”No; as long as we don’t see her, she won’t attack,” Yana said, shaking her head. “Come on; let’s go meet Hawke and Stroud.”

* * *

Blackwall was in shock as he watched what was going on at the ritual tower. He’d known that realistically, it would be bad-- but ‘bad’ didn’t even begin to cover this. Sacrificing their soldiers so that the mages could summon and bind demons? This was not even on the list of things that Blackwall had thought they’d find.

He stayed quiet as Yana exchanged barbed comments with the Tevinter magister, but they still ended up needing to fight, to kill Wardens-- Wardens who’d been taken by Corypheus, true, but still Wardens nonetheless. When the fight was over, Blackwall listened as Hawke and Stroud talked with Yana; Stroud thought that the magister had fled to an abandoned fortress, Adamant.

Blackwall watched them go, heart sinking. “This is going to end with a lot of Wardens dead,” he muttered, rubbing his chin.

He felt Yana lay a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. “We’ll save as many as we can,” she promised. “None of us want to kill Wardens.”

Blackwall swallows, nodding slightly. “Of course. I’d like to come with you when you go to Adamant.”

Yana’s expression was understanding. “Of course. For now, let’s get back to Skyhold; we’ll need to make preparations.”

* * *

Most of the preparations could be done by Josephine; Cullen just had to make sure that his troops knew what was coming and where they would be fighting. Leliana was gathering information about Adamant, leaving Cullen to his usual activities-- namely, looking over reports and filing ones that have been taken care of. The afternoon the day after Yana and her companions returned from the Approach found Cullen giving orders to his higher-ranked soldiers for drills and other preparations for their upcoming assault on Adamant. When he was almost done, there was a brief knock, and then door opened to reveal Yana; Cullen dismissed his soldiers, locking the door after them. “Hey,” he said warmly, stepping in to tug Yana closer for a kiss; she went willingly, but when she pulled back, he could tell that she was searching his expression.

”You’ve been pushing yourself too hard,” she decided.

Cullen shook his head, a smile playing about his lips. “You know what command is like,” he reminded Yana.

”I do, which is why I’m here to keep you from it for a while,” she countered, a small grin on her face. “Talk to me-- about anything.”

”Anything?” Cullen asked, suddenly serious; Yana tilted her head, expression curious, but she nodded. “I-- I find myself wondering what will happen after,” Cullen confessed. “After this war is over. I don’t want-- I don’t want to move on. Not from you.” He’d cupped Yana’s cheek, thumb stroking gently over her skin, as he talked, but he drew his hand back, suddenly nervous. “But I mean, if you-- I don’t know what this is--” he stammered, searching for a distraction and starting to fiddle with the papers on his desk.

He’s stalled by Yana’s hand on his wrist, lifting it so that she could slip in front of him, lifting herself onto the tabletop, bracing herself on one arm, the other lifting Cullen’s chin so that he would meet her gaze. “Cullen,” she said gently. “This is more than just some fling to me; you know that.”

Cullen took a deep breath. “I know,” he murmured. “But sometimes I can’t help but think…”

Yana leaned forward, kissing him briefly. “I’m not going anywhere,” she promised. “If you still want this, then I’m in it-- all the way.”

Cullen smiled at the reassurance, leaning in to brush a kiss against Yana’s mouth, only for one of them-- Cullen thought it might have been him-- to knock over the bottle of wine that had been resting precariously on the edge of his desk. A gasp broke past Yana’s lips when it shattered, and they exchanged a glance before Cullen was sweeping everything else off of his desk, Yana grinning as she watched before they both sank down onto the surface, Cullen kissing his way down Yana’s jaw and neck when she threw her head back on a gasp.

* * *

Their first time was quick and desperate, but when they climbed the steps up to Cullen’s private quarters, things slowed down, Cullen taking his time to find the all places that made Yana go soft and shivery beneath his hands and mouth, coaxing her up and over the edge again and again until she finally flipped their positions, rolling Cullen onto his back and sinking back on him, working her hips until he was buried to the hilt in her, the both of them breathing heavily as Yana tentatively rolled her hips. As she gained confidence and started varying her rhythm, Cullen let his hands roam over her body, rubbing circles into the cut of her hips, letting Yana control their pace. The noises Yana made the closer she got to orgasm were delicious, and Cullen savored each and every one, even as his own orgasm approached; he held himself off, though, until Yana came, her body clenching around him and pushing him over the edge as well. 

Yana slumped to the side, and when Cullen followed suit, she wrapped her arms around him and tucked herself in against him. “That was great,” she said happily. “We should do that again.”

Cullen grinned, chuckling slightly. “Yes, we should-- but I think we need a nap first.”

Yana sighed, mock-put out. “If you insist,” she murmured, though her smile gave her away. “But you’re my pillow.”

* * *

Yana was getting dressed when Cullen started murmuring in his sleep; she paused in lacing up her boots, looking at him worriedly. His brow was creased, and the murmuring grew into agitated whispers that Yana could barely make out, and she reached out for him, giving his shoulder a shake. “Cullen,” she murmured, and then raised her voice. “Cullen!”

The blond shot upright, eyes wide, a strangled scream caught in his throat. “Wha--”

”Easy, easy,” Yana shushed, holding him by the shoulders, her grip gentle. “Hey, it’s just me-- it was just a nightmare.”

Cullen’s breathing slowly steadied until he blew out a long breath. “Just a nightmare,” he echoed, chuckling hollowly.

”Was it bad this time?” Yana asked quietly.

”They always are,” Cullen confessed. “Without the lyrium, they’re worse. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Yana shook her head, a small smile on her face. “You can let me worry a little,” she coaxed, stroking the back of one hand across his cheek.

Cullen sighed, but there was a smile on his face, so Yana counted it as a win. “Just a little,” he conceded, one hand snaking around the back of Yana’s neck to pull her down until their foreheads touched. “I’ve never felt like this before,” he murmured. “I’ve never felt so strongly for someone.”

Yana smiled, eyes falling closed for a moment before she murmured, “I love you; you know that, right?”

”I love you, too,” Cullen answered, his voice giving away the smile on his face.

* * *

After spending a day helping Master Dennet look after the horses and Cullen train his troops, Blackwall was looking forward to some time alone to relax. Which, for the older man, meant carving yet another small toy for the children who came with their parents to Skyhold. Blackwall eyed the block of wood in his hand critically, trying to decide what shape to carve this into. He’s just about decided on a design when he realized he was being watched; when he looked up, he found Yana straddling his chair, chin resting on the back of it. “You’re cute when you’re concentrating,” she mused. “Which is odd, because I never thought I’d describe you as ‘cute’.”

Blackwall rolled his eyes, picking up the piece of charcoal on his bench and starting to sketch the design he’d decided on. “And I’d say I’d never describe you as ‘annoying,’ yet…”

Yana gasped. “Blackwall!” she whined. “You wound me.”

Blackwall raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I don’t see any evidence of a wound,” he drawled, letting his gaze drag down and then back up Yana’s body.

The Inquisitor matched his expression, slowly standing up, swinging one leg over the seat of the chair before sauntering over, hips swinging freely. “Really?” she asked, leaning against Blackwall’s bench and gently taking the wood and charcoal from his hands. “Then maybe you should check a bit more thoroughly.” Her expression was teasing, but sultry, and Blackwall found himself leaning forward to wrap one arm around Yana’s waist, tugging her closer until they wre pressed together from groin to chest.

”Maybe I should,” he murmured, ducking in to kiss Yana briefly before tilting his head to brush kisses down the side of her neck. “But maybe not down here.”

Yana laughed breathlessly, one hand coming up to comb her fingers through his hair. “Not down here,” she agreed.

* * *

When Yana woke up, there was still moonlight coming in through the window next to Blackwall’s bed; she stretched, smiling. “Gonna start some rumors if I don’t start sleeping in my own bed,” she muttered, flopping back to the mattress and curling into Blackwall’s side. 

The Warden laughed quietly, chest moving under Yana’s hand. “Pretty sure there’s already rumors going around about the three of us,” he countered, one hand stroking down Yana’s back; she arched into the touch, smiling.

”True,” she conceded. “Least we give everyone something to talk about that _isn’t_ Coryphypuss.”

Blackwall laughed at that. “I love you,” he chuckled, then tensed, as if he hadn’t meant to say that.

Yana propped herself up on her elbow, searching Blackwall’s expression; the Warden looked anxious, his expression guarded. Tilting her head, Yana reached up with her free hand to poke Blackwall in the cheek. “Say it again,” she requested. “Wanna make sure you’re not a puppet.”

That got her an eyeroll, but Blackwall’s expression relaxed. “I love you,” he repeated as requested.

Yana grinned, leaning in to peck a kiss to the corner of Blackwall’s mouth. “I love you, too,” she announced.

At that, a slow smile spread across Blackwall’s expression. It seemed a little sad, but that could have just been the shadows from the moonlight. “Good,” he murmured, pulling Yana into another kiss. “Never thought I’d hear those words from anyone, much less you.”

Yana shook her head slightly. “I’ll tell you as many times as you want,” she promised, smiling.

Again, there was something just slightly off in Blackwall’s expression, but Yana couldn’t pinpoint it-- but whatever it was didn’t seem bad, so Yana let it slide for the moment, instead letting Blackwall pull her on top of him, trading leisurely kisses.

* * *

The Inquisitor and her companions were the first ones into Adamant when the sappers broke through the front gates, quickly and efficiently taking down the demons and Warden mages that threatened them; once the threat was gone for the moment, Cullen rushed forward, explaining the situation-- Yana and Cullen briefly discussed strategy, with Yana ordering the safety of their troops first and foremost, and Cullen only promising that they’d do what they must.

When Yana turned back to her companions, Blackwall laid a hand on her shoulder. “Soldiers know their jobs,” he reminded her.

”Soldiers sometimes take their jobs too seriously,” she snapped back before sighing. “Come on; we need to find Clarel and that magister before things get too bad.”

It was a relatively straight path to the main bailey, and they tried to spare as many Wardens as they could, but unfortunately some were already taken by Corypheus or were too dedicated to their supposed cause. When they cleared the battlements, Hawke offered to accompany the Inquisitor, but Yana refused, ordering her to stay with the troops and support them while they pressed forward. Things came to a head when they entered the main bailey just as Clarel sacrificed an elderly Warden; as he was still bleeding out on the table, Yana ran forward. “Enough!” she shouted, drawing the attention of every Warden and demon present. “Clarel, stop! This isn’t the answer!”

But the arguing only got them so far; before they could fully convince the Wardens of the truth of their words, Erimond summoned the dragon that had attacked Haven, setting it loose on the Inquisition’s forces. “After them!” Yana ordered as soon as the coast was clear. “We have to stop them before they make things worse!”

That plan was doomed from the start.

* * *

” _What_ happened?” Cullen demanded, sure he had to have heard the messenger wrong. Surely Yana hadn’t--

”The dragon attacked the Inquisitor, Clarel, and the magister; Clarel sacrificed herself to drive it off, but the outcropping was destroyed. A rift opened under the falling rubble, and the Inquisitor and her companions fell through,” the runner repeated.

Cullen wanted to sink to the ground, his mind numb. Yana-- Blackwall-- Maker preserve him, what would he do if they didn’t come back?

But he couldn’t think of that; there was still a battle to be won. This time, Cullen led the charge himself, clearing out the last of the demons and corrupted Wardens, and then all he could do was wait anxiously with the rest of his troops, waiting and hoping.

* * *

” _You won’t make it out of here; maybe your companions will, maybe Blackwall will, but you won’t. What do you think that will do to your precious lovers? Cullen will lose himself to the lyrium, and Blackwall-- there’s so few things keeping him together now. He will fall apart, he will implode, and he will destroy the Inquisition with himself._”

”Shut up, shut _up_ ,” Yana growled, focusing on the path ahead. 

”Talking to the demon won’t make it stop,” Dorian chimed in, and Yana glared at him.

”Thank you for that _helpful_ piece of advice, Pavus,” she snipped. Dorian held his hands up in surrender, and the party fell into silence once more.

* * *

” _She’ll find out, you know. They both will-- they’ll find what you did, they’ll hear about it, they’ll put the pieces together. Do you think the Inquisitor will execute you herself? She really does love you, but how could she love you anymore when she learns what a monster you truly are? Cullen will tell her to kill you, because family is important to him and it obviously isn’t to you, not after what you did. And she’ll listen. She loves him more than you-- You’re nothing more than a distraction to her until this war is over, until she’s no longer the Inquisitor and he is no longer the Commander. But you-- you’ll always be a traitor, a murderer, a monster._”

Blackwall gritted his teeth, forcing himself to ignore the voice in the back of his mind as much as he could; for once, it wasn’t his past talking, but this damned demon. If they could just make it to the other rift--

* * *

”Commander!”

Cullen looked up, neck snapping with the speed with which he did so, at the shout, and his breath caught in his throat. The rift was pulsing. “Arms at the ready!” he ordered; they had no way of knowing what would come through that rift, but everyone was hoping for the same thing. The pulsing grew faster and faster, and then Dorian, Cassandra, and Blackwall leapt through the rift in order; Cullen ran forward, sheathing his sword to grip Blackwall by the shoulders. “Where is she?” he demanded. “What happened; where is she, shouldn’t she be following you?”

Blackwall glanced over his shoulder, mouth open to respond, only to be cut off by the rift pulsing again, spitting out first Hawke and then Yana, who landed in a roll, springing to her feet before slamming the rift shut. The commander and Warden lunged forward, nearly squishing their Inquisitor between them, but if the strength of Yana’s own embrace was any indication, she’d been just as strung out and worried. For several long moments, Cullen couldn’t think beyond the fact that they were alive, that both of them had survived and they were _here,_ in his arms, and they were _alive_. Gradually, the sounds of cheering broke into his thoughts, and Cullen lifted his head to see their troops cheering and embracing, victory making them exuberant. He didn’t let Yana or Blackwall go far, but that was alright, considering they didn’t seem to want to go far either.

At least, that is, until one Warden asked what was to become of their Order; they had no senior officers, no leaders, and given what had happened… Yana exchanged glances with her companions before stepping forward. “Warden Stroud died a hero’s death, ensuring that Hawke and I could escape the Nightmare demon,” she started. “He died believing in the Grey Wardens-- and I believe in you as well. Thedas still needs you; you were led astray, and you may still be vulnerable to Corypheus and his Venatori, but I am willing to give the Grey Wardens another chance. The Grey Wardens may stay, provided they join the Inquisition as our allies. Until Corypheus is defeated, you will work together with our forces.” There was a murmuring among the Grey Wardens, but then the Warden who’d spoken before stepped forward again, accepting Yana’s offer.

The Inquisitor stepped back, then, walking back over to Cullen and Blackwall, who still stood side-by-side, and burrowed between them. “I don’t ever want to do that again,” she muttered, voice muffled by armor and fur. “It’s official: I hate the Fade.”

Cullen couldn’t help but join Blackwall in laughing at that, the two men wrapping Yana in their embrace. “I don’t blame you,” Cullen said, pressing a kiss to Yana’s hair. He glanced at Blackwall, who was simply resting his cheek against Yana’s hair, eyes closed as he took in deep breaths.

Well, fuck.

Cullen was screwed.


	9. Before the Dawn

Yana found Cullen pacing in his office a few days after they made it back to Skyhold; Adamant had taken its toll on the entire Inquisition, but everyone was gradually recovering. Cullen, however, seemed more agitated than Yana had ever seen him; she didn’t _think_ it was the withdrawal. His pacing and manner had the same desperate edge to it, but when he spoke, he didn’t present himself as trying to remain in control, to remain the Commander in front of his troops. He seemed like he was trying to convince himself of something, perhaps brace himself for something. Each time Yana asked, however, he’d insisted everything was fine, even though Yana got the distinct opposite impression. She’d almost given up on asking; Cullen would have to tell her what the problem was when he was ready to.

”Culen, you wanted to see me?” she asked, coughing pointedly to grab his attention.

”Oh, Yana, I didn’t see you there,” Cullen said, face flushing. “My apologies. But yes-- some of my men have found a lead on Samson and where he gets his red lyrium from.” When Yana gestured for him to continue, he showed her the reports. “He’s getting it from smugglers in the Emerald Graves; if we raid their caravans, we might be able to find clues as to its source and where it is heading.”

”And we can cut them off,” Yana finished, a grin spreading across her face. “I like this plan. You said they were in the Emerald Graves?”

Cullen nodded. “My men have worked with Leliana’s agents to track down their paths, and have found a few places suitable for an ambush.”

Yana studied the new map he handed her, and she nodded, satisfied. “I’ll grab a few people to help and we’ll head out as soon as we can,” she decided. “And you,” she added, poking Cullen in the chest, “can use the time to decide if you want to tell me what’s been bothering you since Adamant.”

Cullen sighed, glancing at the door behind her. “It’s Blackwall,” he confessed; Yana frowned, confused.

”Has… Blackwall done something to you?” she asked, hoping that it was something like that and not that Cullen was about to say that he wasn’t comfortable with their current relationship.

”No, it’s not that,” Cullen said, unable to meet Yana’s gaze. “It’s-- I realized--” The former Templar blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “At Adamant, when I heard that you went through the rift, that you’d disappeared into the Fade, I was worried for you. But… I wasn’t worried _just_ for you. I was also worried for Blackwall, to the same level that I was worried for you.”

”Cullen, are you saying--”

”I think I’m in love with Blackwall, too,” Cullen confessed, his expression miserable. “Or at least, I care about him quite a bit. But it feels almost exactly like what I feel for you.”

”Oh, Cullen,” Yana said sympathetically, stepping forward to wrap her arms around the blond. “Why is this so bad?”

”I don’t think he likes me all that much,” Cullen mumbled, his face tucked into the crook of Yana’s neck. “I don’t think he likes _men_.”

Yana was quiet for a moment, carding her fingers through Cullen’s hair in a soothing motion as she thought. “I can see if I can find out,” she offered. “Blackwall plays his cards close to his chest, but I think I can get him to give me some hints at least.”

Cullen grumbled unintelligibly into her neck, but Yana just waited him out until he pulled back enough to say, “Okay. But-- please don’t be obvious. I’d rather he never find out about this than he come reject me or something similar. I don’t want to ruin things for you.”

”Blackwall’s a grown man,” she reminded Cullen, “and so are you. I would hope he would be a little more mature than that, and if he wasn’t, I would readily break things off with him.” Yana gave Cullen a soft kiss. “But I’ll be careful, okay? I promise. Subtle as can be.”

* * *

”Cullen’s got a nice ass, don’t you think?”

Blackwall tripped over a tree root(or maybe it was his own feet), Cassandra looked at Yana like she’d lost her mind, and Dorian just grinned and agreed enthusiastically.

”That came out of nowhere,” Cassandra commented. “I don’t make it a habit to stare at my colleague’s rear ends, however, so I can’t comment.”

Yana turned to Blakwall, expectant, as the warrior regained his balance. “What do you think?” she asked, the picture of innocence.

Blackwall’s ears looked like they were hot enough to fry an egg on. “I uh, I don’t know,” he stammered. “I don’t really-- I’m with the Seeker.”

”Lies,” Dorian said suddenly. “I’ve got a good view from my quarters and I’ve noticed you looking at our dear commander’s arse on more than one occasion.”

”That was just for training--”

”But you still noticed it,” Yana said, expression gleeful. “C’mon, Blackwall, be honest-- do you think Cullen’s arse is nice? Personally I think I could bounce a coin off of it; I’ll have to try that sometime.”

”Fine, yes,” Blackwall blurted, the blush spreading from his ears to the rest of his face. “I’ve noticed Cullen’s arse and it is nice. Can we please find something to kill now?”

Movement through the trees caught Yana’s eye, and she grinned. “You’re in luck, Blackwall-- looks like we’ve found our smugglers.”

”Thank the Maker.”

* * *

”Two down, one to go,” Yana said, plopping onto the log next to Blackwall as the Warden kept watch that night, Cassandra and Dorian sleeping on their rolls on the other side of the fire. Cassandra slept on her side, one hand on the hilt of her sword; Dorian slept sprawled on his stomach, drooling on the pack serving as his pillow, his snores loud enough to either scare off every predator in a one mile radius, or draw in every enemy they had in that same distance.

”Cutting off the Templars’ supply of red lyrium will be nothing but good for us,” Blackwall agreed.

”Cullen agrees,” Yana said. Blackwall looked over at her, frowning slightly.

”Obviously,” he said, confused. “He was the one to suggest this plan, wasn’t he?”

”Yes, he was,” Yana answered, not looking at Blackwall. “He’s a great tactician.”

”He is,” Blackwall conceded, and after a moment’s silence, asked, “Why did you ask us if we thought Cullen had a nice… arse?”

Yana shrugged. “He thinks I’m delusional,” she said, and if weren’t for the way her gaze slid to the left as she spoke, Blackwall would believe her.

”Uh-huh. And you felt the need to blurt it in the middle of the forest because…?” he prodded.

”Because I have no control over my mouth sometimes, you know this,” Yana said, the tips of her ears going red-- which was a clear sign that she wasn’t telling the whole truth.

Still, Blackwall decided to let the subject drop. “Uh-huh. Well, you can tell Cullen that the three of us think he has a nice arse, so he doesn’t have to worry about that,” he said dryly. “Now go the fuck to sleep; your watch is up next.”

Yana rolled her eyes, her expression indulgent. “Fine, fine,” she sighed, getting up to press a kiss to Blackwall’s cheek; the Warden grabbed her, pulling her in close to give her a proper kiss, licking into her mouth just to make Yana whine. When they pull apart, the Inquisitor is left panting, pupils blown wide. “You bastard; you expect me to go to sleep after that?”

”Yes,” Blackwall said, smirking. “I’m on watch, remember?”

”I hate you,” Yana said fervently. “No sex for you when we get back to Skyhold.”

Blackwall laughed at that. “You’ve threatened me with that before,” he reminded her. “It never works.”

Yana sighed. “Your beard is too irresistible; I love the way it feels on my inner thighs,” she said, moving away. “Good night, Blackwall.”

Blackwall shook his head, smiling. “Good night, Yana.”

* * *

After returning to Skyhold and delivering the letters, Yana was left with little to do besides pester her companions and render judgment on a few prisoners-- namely, Magister Erimond, the Mayor of Crestwood, and Grand Duchess Florianne’s remains. Yana saw to Erimond’s case first, and after careful consideration, she saw only one viable option: “Tranquility,” she announced. “A punishment designed for mages, and you are the worst of them. I don’t like condemning anyone to that, but you are too dangerous to be allowed to keep your powers and status. As Inquisitor, I have the authority to pass judgment on you as I see fit; I think few people would disagree with my decision. You have abused both power and station, and so you will be stripped of both.” Yana watched dispassionately as the magister was dragged away, kicking and screaming.

”Next,” Josephine announced once the magister was gone, “is Mayor Dederick Gregory of Crestwood-- charged with the mass murder of his own constituents. His only defense is that he claims those killed were afflicted with the Blight.”

”Nearly everyone in town had the Blight, I swear it,” the former mayor pleaded desperately. “Please, how could I tell everyone that I’d killed their loved ones? I couldn’t convince anyone to leave a sick child or lover behind until the town was nearly flooded.”

Yana studied the man before her intently before deciding, “Mayor Dederick, the Blight was your undoing-- let it now be your means of redemption. I give you to our allies in the Grey Wardens, to serve with them until the Calling takes you.”

There were stunned gasps and murmurs through the hall even as the former mayor professed his thanks; Josephine waited until the murmurs had quieted down before motioning for the guards to bring in a box. “This… was not my idea,” she said first. “It is an issue born of many complications-- the short version is that, because of legal complications surrounding the circumstances of Florianne’s death, her affairs and possessions are currently inaccessible. The Empress asks that we judge her remains, so that this issue can be resolved.”

”Unusual,” Yana allowed, “but not without precedent. A similar thing happened several decades ago; I suggest we follow the precedent they set. Grand Duchess Florianne, I find you guilty of attempted assassination and treason. Your assets, everything titled to you, are forfeit, to be claimed by the Orlesian Empire.”

”Thank you for doing that quickly,” Josephine said gratefully. 

* * *

Dorian found Yana in her quarters that evening; he entered without knocking, and Yana threw her hands in the air. “Is no one in this entire blasted hold capable of knocking?” she demanded.

”I’m not,” Dorian said cheerfully. “Now, let’s talk about what’s going on between your lovers.”

Yana buried her face in her hands. “Fine,” she sighed. “What do you think is going on?”

”I think they’re both suffering a sexuality crisis,” Dorian said bluntly. “Cullen’s a bit more obvious, and Blackwall is oblivious to both Cullen’s crisis and his own.”

Yana rolled her eyes. “I feel a bit bad for Cullen,” she confessed. “He told me he thinks he’s in love with Blackwall-- he said he realized it at Adamant, when we went into the Fade. But Blackwall… He’s harder to read. He likes Cullen; they get along well, but I’m not sure if he _wants_ Cullen.”

”It would certainly make your life easier if he did,” Dorian observed, and Yana shook her head.

”It would, and my sex life would improve a _lot_ , but that’s not why I’m concerned about this. I want them both happy, and Cullen’s miserable. He thinks Blackwall doesn’t want him, not like that.”

”What do you think?” Dorian asked curiously.

”I think Blackwall does, but he’s not letting himself think about it,” Yana answered honestly.

”Hm. I think you’re right,” Dorian concurred. “Now, what are we going to do about it?”

Yana didn’t even question why Dorian thought he should be involved; the mage would just get involved anyway. “We need to see if we can get Blackwall to realize the depths of his feelings for Cullen,” she said after a moment. “Then we can work on them actually getting together.”

”Good plan,” Dorian approved. “Now, I’ve got some ideas…”

* * *

But no matter what they tried, nothing worked. The best they could get was Blackwall blushing redder than a ripe tomato, but he hid his thought so well-- or was so deep in denial-- that even Cole couldn’t read anything. Honestly, Yana was just about to give up when Cullen told her they’d located Samson’s headquarters; apparently he had set up camp at an old shrine to one of the Old Gods, and that was where the red lyrium shipments were going.

Yana took Blackwall, Dorian, and Sera with her, and Cullen asked to come along as well; Yana wasn’t sure why he wanted to come, but she allowed it anyway. It would take them a day or so to reach the shrine; they almost made it, but didn’t want to attack in the dark and so decided to make camp and attack the next day. Things were relatively quiet; as Yana cooked(she was the only one of them who could; Dorian was no longer allowed to cook after what he did to the last camp he attempted it at), Blackwall and Dorian traded stories for a rapt Cullen’s benefit, and Sera was prowling around the camp. Yana had long ago learned to just leave Sera to her own devices.

’Her own devices’ turned out to be picking through everyone’s bags this time; no one realized what she was up to until she let out a delighted shriek, holding up a silvery metal tin. “Is this _styling wax_?” she demanded, delighted. “Dorian!”

”Hey!” the mage yelped, expression panicked as he scrambled to his feet. “Give that back, you sticky-fingered wretch!”

Sera easily outpaced the mage, singing, “Primpy prissy ma-age needs wax for his mustache!” as she danced just out of his reach, cackling all the while; Yana had fallen to the ground, arms wrapped around herself as she laughed. Cullen and Blackwall were holding each other up on their log, their laughter almost drowning out Dorian’s attempts to threaten and cajole Sera into giving up her prize. Eventually, Dorian resulted to magic-- he timed an ice mine so that Sera would run over it right as it was finishing priming, resulting in her being thrown to the side, tin going the other way. Everything was quiet until Sera pushed herself onto her elbows, and then Yana almost fell into the fire from laughing-- Sera’s eyebrows and bangs were frosted, there was an icicle hanging from her nose, and snow dusted the front of her clothing. It took Sera a moment to fully comprehend what had happened, and then she let out an outraged shriek, lunging to her feet and taking off after Dorian, who’d scooped up his tin of wax. The mage yelped once again and took off, calling for help, but the other three were too busy laughing their assess off to be of any use.

Eventually, the mage and elf managed to come to a truce when Yana announced that dinner was ready-- it was either that or neither of them would get anything to eat. Dorian’s mustache and hair had been mussed in the scuffles, and he sat on one side of the fire, tin balanced on one knee, plate of food on the other, as he attempted to straighten out his hair, finally whining for Yana to come help him. The Inquisitor rolled her eyes and held her hand out for the tin of wax, scooping up a bit and spreading it over her hand before reshaping Dorian’s hair while the mage worked on his mustache. “Look at them,” Dorian murmured, too low for anyone but Yana to hear. He nodded towards Blackwall and Cullen, and Yana smacked him upside the head; now she’d have to redo that spot.

Still, she looked over where Dorian had gestured, and she couldn’t help but smile when she saw how close her lovers were sitting together, pressed together from knee to hip as they pored over a map together while eating, Blackwall pointing out darkspawn hives and ancient battlefields while Cullen listened attentively, asking questions occasionally. “Well, at least there’s some progress,” she murmured, returning her attention to Dorian’s hair.

”Progress in what?” Sera asked, plopping onto the other end of the log; Dorian gave her a glare, tucking the tin of wax protectively against his chest. Sera just grinned at him.

”Figuring out those two,” Yana said, tilting her head towards their commander and the Warden.

Sera studied them for a moment before making a face. “Dicks, ugh. Still, it’d be nice for them to get their shit straightened; pool’s getting larger and larger back at Skyhold, and I want a slice of it.”

”’Pool’?” Yana echoed, staring at the other rogue. “People are betting on us?”

”Them two, actually,” Sera corrected, digging through her bag for a whetstone before starting to sharpen her knives. “Pool on you and them ended when you started boinking them both.”

Yana didn’t know whether to be amused, exasperated, or offended. She decided on a mixture of all three. Dorian, however, apparently went with ‘offended.’ “I wasn’t invited into this pool,” he protested. “I want in on it.”

Sera shrugged. “You’ll have to take that up with Varric when we get back,” she informed him. “He’s the one holdin’ all the money.”

”And he didn’t invite me into the pool,” Dorian sniffed. “Discrimination, that’s what it is. Are you hearing this, Inquisitor? They’re picking on me because I’m from Tevinter.”

Yana rolled her eyes, finishing with Dorian’s hair and wiping her hands on the mage’s robes just to make him splutter. “No, they’re picking on you because you give them such great reactions,” she corrected. 

Dorian gasped. “ _Traitor!_ And here, after all I’ve done for you, I thought you’d be on _my_ side!”

Yana laughed. “I’m on _their_ side,” she told Dorian, nodding towards Blackwall and Cullen, still poring over the map.

Dorian sighed. “I suppose I can’t hold that against you.”

* * *

When they arrived at the shrine, it was already in ruins, flames licking over the stone walls as Blackwall and the others took out the remaining templars, fighting their way to the inner sanctum, searching for answers. Almost everything was destroyed in the fire, but in the inner sanctum, they made a discovery that no one had expected.

In the inner sanctum, they found a Tranquil mage on the floor, propped up against a table. “Hello, Inquisitor,” he said in the calm and even tone of the Tranquil. “Cullen.”

”Maddox?” Cullen said, his expression shocked and horrified. “Something’s wrong-- I’ll send for a healer--”

Maddox tilted his head. “A healer won’t help me now,” he said simply. “I’ve consumed my entire supply of blightcap essence. It won’t be long now.”

”We only wanted to ask questions, Maddox,” Yana tried, her expression resigned even as Cullen’s shuttered as Maddox confessed his suicide. “We wouldn’t have hurt you.”

”I could not allow that,” Maddox replied. “I am loyal-- as loyal as any Tranquil can be-- to Samson. I will not betray him. I destroyed the camp with fire, and some stayed behind to give Samson time to escape.”

Something in Cullen’s expression cracked at that admission. “You threw your lives away-- for _Samson_?” he demanded. “Why?”

”Samson saved me even before he needed me,” Maddox replied. “He gave me a purpose again. He gave us all a new-- purpose.” When the last word had fallen from his lips, the Tranquil’s eyes slid closed and his body slumped. Cullen stayed on his knees until Yana reached out, laying a hand on the commander’s shoulder, and Blackwall wanted to mirror the movement.

Cullen shoved himself to his feet, not looking at Yana or anyone else as he said, voice flat and toneless, “We should check the camp. He may have missed something.”

As Dorian and Sera spread out, Yana and Blackwall stayed with Cullen. “Maddox deserves a proper funeral,” Blackwall said. “He’s not the first sorry bastard to give his life to the wrong cause, and he won’t be the last. But that doesn’t make him any less deserving.” The small, grateful smile Cullen gave Blackwall felt like a punch to the gut; Blackwall nodded as Yana said she’d make the arrangements, and hastily joined Dorian and Sera in looking through the rubble for anything useful, feeling more conflicted than he had in a long time.

They found tools and diagrams, enough to guess what Maddox had been working on-- and enough for their arcanist to perhaps undo Maddox’s work. Yana and Blackwall helped carry Maddox’s body to a safe place, and then Yana sent a raven to the nearest Inquisition camp with instructions for a proper funeral for the deceased Tranquil. Then they headed back to Skyhold.

* * *

Blackwall found himself climbing the steps to Cullen’s tower when worry for the former Templar constantly plagued his thoughts, no matter how he tried to distract himself; he hesitated outside the door when he heard Yana’s voice, able to catch the tail end of their conversation. “--you did it.”

”No, we all did,” Yana corrected. “Don’t sell yourself short, Cullen-- especially when you’re anything but.”

Blackwall could almost _hear_ Cullen’s eyeroll. “Must you make everything into an obscene joke?” he asked, tone exasperated but fond.

”Of course,” Yana said cheerfully. “Just ask Blackwall; it’s my specialty.”

”And here I thought your specialty was that thing you like to do with your tongue,” Cullen said dryly, and Blackwall wondered what he was talking about. “Nevertheless, our work’s not done yet; we’re still getting recruits by the hour, and there’s more than a few ex-Templars among them. We’ve struck a serious blow against Corypheus, and given people hope. This is a--”

”Inquisitor, I finished it!” That sounded like Dagna; she must have come in through one of the other doors into Cullen’s tower. “Are you talking? Sorry. Here, have it anyhow.”

”Impressive,” Yana said, apparently looking at whatever Dagna handed her. “What is it, exactly?”

”It’s a rune! Well, not just _any_ rune. I made it with a mixture of red lyrium and pure lyrium, and poor Maddox’s tools. It acts on the median fissure of lyrium to-- It’ll make Samson’s armor useless. Much easier to stick him with one of your little knives.”

Yana laughed. “I like rendering my enemies powerless,” she agreed. “We should do that more often.” There was some more exchanged words, and then Dagna left; Yana and Cullen shared a brief conversation, and then a door opened and closed, signalling Yana’s departure. Blackwall waited a moment before knocking on the door he stood behind; when he heard Cullen grant permission for entry, Blackwall pushed the door open, stepping inside.

”Blackwall,” Cullen said, clearly not expecting to see the Warden. “What can I help you with?”

Blackwall hesitated for a moment. “I wanted to see if you were okay,” he said after a moment. “What happened at the shrine-- I could see that it was... bad… for you.” Maker’s breath, he was bad at this.

Cullen, for his part, seemed a bit startled by Blackwall’s words-- but then his expression morphed into something… pleased? “I-- Yes. It certainly wasn’t pleasant. The Samson I knew was not the best man, but he tried. The thought I can’t shake is… Samson tried to do what he thought was the right thing. I can’t help but think… what if Corypheus used that against him?”

Blackwall hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, one hand lifting to settle over Cullen’s, squeezing lightly. “We can’t know that for sure either way,” he said quietly, ducking his head so that he can look Cullen in the eye. “But people change, Cullen. Sometimes they just do, and there’s never a real reason.”

Cullen sighed, his hand turning in Blackwall’s until he could thread their fingers together; the gesture felt natural, and that in and of itself should have-- and did-- make Blackwall panic, but he shoved the feeling aside in favor of offering what meagre comfort he could. “I know,” Cullen admitted, his gaze focused on their joined hands. “But that doesn’t help.”

There’s nothing Blackwall can really say to that, so he didn’t say anything at all, only tightening his grip on Cullen’s hand, letting the Templar take what comfort he needed.


	10. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PORN
> 
> No seriously. This chapter is mostly just porn and feels.

Yana found Blackwall pacing on the stable floor; his expression was tight, worry creating lines around his mouth and eyes. “You wanted to talk to me?” Yana asked, stepping into the barn. “Blackwall, what’s wrong?”

”What’s wrong?” Blackwall echoes, tone mocking. “I don’t know, maybe the fact that I apparently don’t know myself as well as I thought!” 

”Hey,” Yana snapped. “Don’t take whatever’s bothering you out on me. I am not a training dummy.”

That brought Blackwall up short, and the Warden tilted his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, sincere. “You’re right.”

Yana’s expression softened, and she stepped forward, reaching out to take Blackwall’s hands in hers, massaging out the fists he’d clenched them into. “Take a deep breath,” she instructed, “and let it out slowly.” She waited until Blackwall had complied before smiling gently. “Now, tell me what’s bothering you.”

”It’s Cullen,” Blackwall confessed, and suddenly Yana was experiencing a heavy case of deja vu.

”What about Cullen?” she prompted carefully.

”He’s-- I can’t get him off my mind.” Blackwall’s shoulders were slumped as he muttered out his confession, and Yana let her hands run up his arms to start gently massaging his shoulders.

”I know the feeling,” she said with a smile. “Is that a bad thing?”

”I don’t know,” Blackwall said, clearly frustrated. “I-- I don’t think so. But I've never felt like this, not for any other man. And it’s-- it’s similar, to what I feel for you, but it’s not the same thing.”

Yana nodded, her expression open and encouraging. “It’s okay to be nervous, or frightened,” she said reassuringly. “Especially if this is new for you. I’m here, you know that.”

Blackwall sighed, leaning into Yana, who shifted her stance and position accordingly until she was holding the Warden, one hand scratching lightly at his scalp as the other traced a pattern over his back and shoulder blades. “I’m confused,” Blackwall admitted, mumbling into Yana’s shoulder.

”I’ll help you figure it out,” Yana promised, her mind working as she tried to figure out just how she’d do that.

* * *

Cullen frowned to himself as he approached the stables; why did Yana want him to meet her and Blackwall down here after dark?

A peculiar-- almost familiar-- sound interrupted his thoughts, and he paused in the entrance to the barn, listening intently. When the sound came again, Cullen identified it as a groan; a very _turned-on_ groan. Face heating, Cullen realized that that was _Blackwall’s_ groan of passion, and he turned to leave-- but what he heard next made him freeze in his tracks.

”Cullen’s good with his mouth, you know.” That was Yana, using the voice Cullen only heard when she was dead set on driving Cullen out of his mind with her mouth and hands. “He’s also got such a nice dick-- not too long, not too thick, but it fills me up just right.”

Swallowing, Cullen glanced around guiltily before ducking back into the barn, hiding out of sight of anyone in the loft as he listened for Yana’s next words.

* * *

Blackwall had his head thrown back, hands clenched into fists at his side as Yana murmured more of her filthy siren’s song as she worked her hand over his dick slowly-- enough to keep him hard, but not enough to bring him anywhere near orgasm, not yet. “ _Yana_ ,” he gasped when he rubbed her thumb over her slit.

”Cullen likes that, too,” Yana mused, almost to herself. “He always bites his lip so hard I can’t tell where that little scar is. Have you ever wondered what it would feel like under your hand, under your lips? It’s smooth-- unnaturally smooth. But _Maker_ , the effect it has on his looks-- he looks just as handsome as you do.” Blackwall whined, twisting and writhing on the bed beneath them. Yana chuckled, low and pleased, in the back of her throat. “You like thinking about Cullen?” she asked, smirk curving her lips even as she teased Blackwall by rubbing that spot just under the head of his cock. “Think about that nice, strong jaw-- how he looks under that floofy pauldron and armor? I bet he’d let your see if you asked real nice-- and it’s a view worth begging for.” Blackwall felt a breathless gasp punched out of him-- and of course, Yana picked up on it.

”You want to do that? Get on your knees for him, beg for his cock? I bet he’d like that-- I know I like having you on your knees for me,” Yana purred. “Bet Cullen would too-- he’d teach you how to suck his cock just right, he’d be so patient with you. Praise you for doing everything right, run his hands through your hair. He likes it when he comes in my mouth-- he likes to taste himself. Likes for me to hold it all in my mouth and share it with him.” Blackwall groaned, one arm thrown over his face, unable to do anything but picture the images Yana was describing-- and he really, _really_ liked them; liked everything about them, honestly. “Maybe I should invite you up to Cullen’s office, or him down here,” Yana suggested. “Or maybe we could all go up to my quarters. Maybe I could make Cullen come in my mouth, then share it with you. Get a taste of both of us.” Blackwall outright whined at that-- that was something he wanted, _needed_.

* * *

Cullen briefly felt bad about undoing his breeches enough to get his cock out, stroking himself to the rhythm of Yana’s voice, but when she mentioned that last bit, all guilt vanished and he had to stifle his gasp into his glove. _Damn_ , that sounded good. He wanted the opposite, too-- wanted to lick Blackwall’s come out of Yana’s mouth, share it with the Warden. He wanted to get his mouth on Blackwall’s cock, on his _ass_ , wanted to take the older man apart piece by piece, wanted to watch Yana do the same. He bet Blackwall would make some _beautiful_ noises if they both got their hands on him.

Above his head, Yana was still murmuring to Blackwall, describing all the things she and Cullen could do to him-- and Cullen wanted to do them _all_. If the sounds Blackwall was making were any indication, he wanted them too. Blackwall’s moans and gasps picked up speed, gaining volume in urgency, and Yana’s murmurs turned to croons. “You picturing him?” she asked, voice low and smooth. If Cullen really strained, he could hear the sounds of Yana’s hand moving over Blackwall’s skin. “Cullen makes this adorable little face when he comes, like each orgasm is a gift he never thought he’d get again.” Did he really make that face? He didn’t think he made a face-- much less an adorable one. “I want to see him come on you-- would you let him come on your face, on your beard? You wouldn’t believe the number of times I’ve imagined licking his come off of your face, or yours off his. Or even better-- you two cleaning me up after you come on my face. Come on, Blackwall-- if you come for me, I’ll clean you up and you can pretend it’s him.” There was a strangled groan from above Cullen, and he just _knew_ that Blackwall had come, probably all over his chest and stomach, and Cullen couldn’t hold himself back anymore. His head slammed back into the beam he was leaning against, fist stripping his cock furiously as he listened to Blackwall come down from his high; his own orgasm punched the breath from him, his come splattering the ground in front of him, his teeth sinking into his palm as he tried to stay as quiet as possible.

Above him, he could hear Yana murmuring praise to Blackwall as she gentled him back to himself, and Cullen quickly tucked himself back into his breeches, kicking hay over his come splatter on the floor before beating a hasty retreat; he didn’t want to give himself away.

* * *

Yana saw a glint of metal rushing away from the barn, and she hid her smile against Blackwall’s stomach.

Perfect plan execution.

* * *

Cullen cornered Yana after the council meeting the next day. “You planned that,” he accused. “You wanted me to hear you and Blackwall.”

Yana raised an eyebrow. “Did you like it?” she asked bluntly. “Blackwall did.”

Cullen blew out a breath. “Yes, I did,” he admitted. “But I think anyone would like you talking to them like that.”

”It’s not just that; Blackwall likes you, a lot. He’s also noticed you physically-- carnally. He _wants_ you, believe me. We just need to get him to act on it.”

Cullen shook his head. “I don’t know how we could do that,” he said, frustrated; Yana, however, didn’t seem to share his frustrations.

”I’ve got a few ideas,” she said, her expression taking on that distant look that meant she was planning something. Cullen wasn’t sure whether or not to be apprehensive.

* * *

”Blackwall!”

The Warden looked up at the call, and he grinned when he saw Yana coming into the barn. “Afternoon,” he greeted, ducking in for a kiss that Yana readily gave up.

”Afternoon,” she grinned. “Hey, I wanted to see if you wanted to meet me outside of Skyhold for dinner? There’s a nice little knoll about fifteen minutes’ walk east of the main gates; you bring the food?”

Blackwall chuckled. “Long as you don’t mind tavern food; you know I can’t cook much besides slapping a sandwich together.”

Yana rolled her eyes fondly. “Yes, I know,” she chuckled. “That’s better than Dorian can do, at any rate. Meet me there at sunset?”

”Sunset,” Blackwall agreed, already looking forward to it.

He picked up the food before heading out the main gate, following Yana’s instructions until he found the knoll. He paused as he took in the sight that greeted him-- Yana and Cullen were standing under a tree, talking to each other until Cullen caught sight of Blackwall; the two men exchanged tentative smiles, Blackwall’s ears heating as he remembered what had transpired between him and Yana the night before. Yana seemed to pick up on Blackwall’s presence then, and she turned around, smiling when she caught sight of the other man.

She came over, taking the basket from Blackwall’s fingers as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Hey, I’m sorry-- I’ve actually got to run, Leliana needs me to help her sort through some reports out of Emprise du Lion, and Josephine got several ravens today with diplomatic issues she wants me to help resolve. You and Cullen can keep each other company, right? Right. Okay, bye!”

With that, Yana was off, trotting back down the trail to the main gates, leaving her lovers behind. Blackwall watched her go, and then glanced back over at Cullen, who looked unsure. “Well, I’ve got food,” Blackwall said after a few moments of awkward silence. “We might as well eat it, if you’re willing.”

Cullen startled, like he hadn’t been expecting Blackwall to speak to him, but when the Warden’s words registered, a slow, pleased smile spread across the commander’s face. “I am hungry,” he allowed. “Come on; I think there’s a nice log right over there.”

Blackwall and Cullen ended up settling in front of the log, leaning against it as they ate in only slightly awkward silence; Cullen eventually broke it by asking Blackwall’s opinion of one of the troops, and from there the conversation flowed, evolving and shifting until the food was gone and Blackwall and Cullen were leaning against each other, slowly lapsing into silence. When Blackwall turned his head to ask another question, he found Cullen looking at him, and they were scant inches apart. Blackwall’s gaze dipped down to Cullen’s mouth, swallowing heavily-- Yana’s words from the night before echoed through his mind.

_”Cullen’s good with his mouth, you know.”_

_”He always bites his lip so hard-- have you thought about what it would feel like under your hand, your lips?”_

Blackwall felt his ears go hot, even as he realized that he was leaning in closer, intent on finding out just how that little scar would feel under his lips when he kissed Cullen, and he jerked back, almost knocking himself over the log. “I’m sorry, I should-- I need to--” Blackwall scrambled to his feet, barely registering Cullen getting to his as well, and then he was fleeing the scene without looking back. 

He didn’t see Cullen watch him go, expression confused and more than a little hurt.

* * *

”You did _what?_ ” Yana shrieked, startling one of the yearlings who kicked the stall wall in retaliation.

”I almost kissed Cullen,” Blackwall repeated, ears heating.

”No, that’s not what I meant-- you _ran away_?” Yana had her arms crossed over her chest now, feet planted as she glared at Blackwall. “Why?”

”Because I almost kissed him!”

”No, that’s not a good enough reason,” Yana snapped. “Why did you run away, Blackwall?”

”Because-- Because, dammit, I wanted to kiss him, and that made me afraid! It’s one thing to listen to you say all those-- things-- when we’re in bed, but to do anything about it during the day? I don’t-- I don’t know if Cullen would even _want_ me to do that.”

”Well, you’re not going to get that answer from me,” Yana said, voice gentler now. “You need to talk to him, Blackwall.”

”I don’t--”

”Talk. To. Him.” Yana’s voice brooked no argument, and Blackwall sighed.

”You’re right,” he conceded. “You’re right. I should-- Yeah. I’ll do that… soon.”

Yana looked like she wanted to push him on that, but decided against it.

”Whatever happens, I’m here for you,” she said, stepping forward to give Blackwall a kiss.

”Whatever happens,” Blackwall echoed; he tried not to think about what that could include.

* * *

Cullen was not-reading some reports his agents had given him when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” he called, voice dull-- he still couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to think that maybe, just maybe…

”May I speak with you, Co-- Cullen?”

Cullen looked up, eyes wide, as he registered the voice as Blackwall’s. “Warden Blackwall,” he said, voice clearly betraying his surprise. “My apologies, I wasn’t expecting you. What can I help you with?”

Blackwall couldn’t quite meet his eye for a moment, until he seemed to steel himself, his shoulders straightening before he asked, “I was wondering if I might speak with you-- alone.”

”Alone?” Cullen asked, heartbeat picking up speed. “I mean, of course. Yes. Ah, perhaps we could… walk the battlements?” Maker’s breath, he felt more nervous now than he ever had in his life, even on the day he first left to train as a Templar.

Blackwall nodded, and Cullen led the way out of his office. They walked for a while in silence, but after they’d passed through the next tower, Cullen said hesitantly, hand on the back of his neck, “It’s a, uh, nice day.”

”What?” Blackwall asked, voice sharp with confusion.

”It’s…” Cullen started, before giving up. “There was something you wished to discuss?”

Blackwall blew out a breath, moving to lean against the battlement wall. “I wanted to discuss what happened last night,” he admitted. “I… Should not have run away.”

”I should be the one apologizing, I--” Cullen stopped, blinking, as Blackwall’s words fully registered. “Wait, what?”

Blackwall glanced over his shoulder at Cullen, who’d moved to stand next to the other warrior. “I shouldn’t have run,” the Warden repeated. “It was cowardly of me; I was afraid, but that’s no excuse.”

”Afraid?” Cullen prompted gently, hardly daring to breathe.

Blackwall sighed, head hanging as he confessed, “I care for you-- as much as you or I care for Yana. I… I wanted that kiss, and that frightened me, because I’ve only wanted that from one other man before, and that didn’t... end well.”

”And you fear the same thing happening to us?” Cullen asked, wanting-- _needing_ \-- to make sure that he had everything right, that he fully understood what was going on.

”In a manner of speaking, yes,” Blackwall agreed.

Cullen didn’t hesitate before laying a hand on Blackwall’s shoulder, encouraging the older man to turn so that they could face one another. “I don’t think it will,” Cullen said quietly, reassuringly. “I think this could be something great.”

Blackwall swayed towards him, just a little-- just enough to encourage Cullen to mirror the movement. “So do I, and I’m afraid of--” They were so close now, closer than they’d been even the night before, and Cullen leaned forward, intent on closing that last little bit of distance between them--

There was the _bang_ of a door falling shut, and a voice calling out “Commander!” and the two jumped apart, Cullen turning to glare at the man who’d interrupted them. “You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana’s report,” the agent continued, oblivious.

Cullen stepped in front of Blackwall, hands clenched into fists at his side. “What?” he demanded, voice harsh.

”Sister Leliana’s report,” the man repeated. “You wanted it right awa--” Cullen tilted his head, jaw clenched hard enough to ache as he glared at the man; the agent’s gaze slid from Cullen’s furious expression to something over his shoulder, and he hastily corrected himself. “In your office. Right, yes, my mistake.” With that, the man fled, and Cullen scrubbed his hand over his face and through his hair before turning back to Blackwall.

He saw Blackwall’s mouth open to say something, but before he could convince himself not to-- and before they could get interrupted again-- Cullen closed the distance between them, slotting his lips over the Warden’s, swallowing Blackwall’s gasp of surprise. The older man was stiff and unresponsive, and Cullen was about to pull back, afraid he’d misread the situation, when Blackwall’s fingers curled around the back of Cullen’s neck, pulling him in as Blackwall pushed closer, deepening the kiss. They pulled apart after a few moments, a few more, gentler kisses, but neither of them went very far. “I’m sorry,” Cullen apologized, face hot from sudden embarrassment and the slight scratch of Blackwall’s beard. “That was--

”Good,” Blackwall interrupted him, voice firm. “That was good.”

Cullen smiled, mouth curving into something soft and pleased, and he leaned in for another kiss, one Blackwall happily surrendered.

* * *

” _Yes!_ ” Yana threw her hands in the air, doing a little dance.

”Don’t break my glasses, dear,” Vivienne said, her voice amused. “Though I understand your enthusiasm.”

Yana, still grinning, handed over the opera glasses she’d commandeered when she’d realized that Blackwall and Cullen were the figures walking the far battlements. “I was starting to get worried,” she confessed. “But hopefully now things will be a lot better now.”

Vivienne smiled, her voice saccharine sweet as she said, “The three of you make a lovely sandwich, darling.”

* * *

” _Dorian!_ ”

Yana threw the doors to Dorian’s private quarters open with a bang, and was caught totally unawares by the sight that greeted her: Dorian, laid out in his lavish bed, something on his face. The sight got even weirder when Dorian shoved himself upright on the bed-- the something resolved itself into one of those Orlesian poultices designed to clear and soften skin, and he had sliced… vegetables over his eyes, along with the slim metal rods that were heated and used to curl and shape hair sticking out of his hair. “ _What_?” the Tevinter mage snarled.

”Eurgh!” Yana yelped, recoiling; as well-put-together as Dorian looked during the day, that was as hideous as he looked now.

Dorian removed one vegetable slice to glare at Yana. “This had better be good,” he growled.

”It is, I swear,” Yana promised. “Cullen and Blackwall finally pulled their heads out of their asses; I saw it with my own eyes!”

It looked like the information took a moment to sink in, and then Dorian was grinning. “About damn time!” he said cheerfully. “Now get the fuck out of here so I can go back to sleep.”

* * *

Yana bounded into Cullen’s office later that day, her grin huge. “So I saw you kiss Blackwall,” she said happily.

Cullen startled, knocking a few sheafs of paper off of his desk. “Oh, it’s just you,” he sighed. “Maker’s breath, you scared me.” Then Yana’s words registered, and his eyes widened. “Wait, how did you see that?”

”Vivienne had a pair of opera glasses that she lent me when I realized you and Blackwall were walking on the battlements,” Yana said dismissively. “Not the point: Point is, you kissed him! Did he kiss you back? If he didn’t, I’m going to go kick his--”

”He kissed me back,” Cullen said, grinning slightly. “No need to go beat him up.”

Yana nodded, satisfied. “Good. So, what do you think about having a threesome tonight in my quarters? Dorian and Vivienne managed to soundproof the room so we can be as loud as we want.”

Cullen flushed. “I somehow keep forgetting how blunt you can be,” he muttered. “But I have to admit, I like that idea. I want to see what Blackwall looks like…” He trailed off, the blush deepening.

”When he comes all over himself?” Yana suggested, grinning smugly. “It’s amazing, you’re going to love it. Word of advice: he _loves_ being praised. I’m gonna go tell him to meet us in my quarters tonight.” With that, she was out the door again, leaving just as quickly as she’d entered. Cullen shook his head, bemused, and gathered the papers that he’d knocked off his desk.

He was in the middle of a conference with a few of his men when Yana burst in again, the door banging open against the wall. “Sorry to burst in,” Yana said, offering the men a smile that suggested she wasn’t as sorry as she said, before marching over to Cullen and grabbing his arm. “I need to steal the commander for a moment, boys. You’re dismissed for now.” Cullen didn’t resist when Yana tugged on him.

He waited until they were out the door before asking, “Why did you need to steal me?”

”We need to talk to Blackwall, he’s laboring under a wrong impression,” she said simply, moving her hand so that she and Cullen were holding hands rather than Yana dragging him down the stairs to the stables.

Cullen frowned. “What impression?”

”He thinks that you won’t want to sleep with him,” she explained. “He thinks that, for some reason, you and I both just want to continue with the way we’ve been doing things.”

”Did you bring up the threesome as bluntly as you did to me?”

At that, Yana flushed. “I might have burst in and told him that you and I were going to fuck him tonight,” she admitted.

Cullen used his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’re no longer allowed to announce anything sex-related,” he informed her. “Ever.”

Yana stuck her tongue out at him, but then they were at the stables. Cullen quickly found Blackwall sitting on a bale of hay, nervously fiddling with a block of wood, and when the Warden almost sliced his finger open with his carving knife, the former Templar was quick to kneel before him, taking the wood and knife gently from his hands. “Hey,” he said quietly, offering Blackwall a reassuring smile. “Yana said you wanted to talk?”

”No, she ran out of here and told me not to move,” Blackwall muttered, not looking Cullen in the eye. “After she said that--”

”Yana told me what she said,” Cullen finished, smiling slightly. “And I told her that she’s no longer allowed to announce anything sex-related.”

That earned a slight chuckle. “Thank you,” Blackwall said; now, however, he was staring at his hands as they twitched and fidgeted in his lap. “Did you-- Was she telling the truth?” Blackwall demanded abruptly, every part of him going still, tense with apprehension.

Cullen reached for Blackwall’s hands, taking them in his own and gently starting to massage them, encouraging the older man to relax. “She was, partly,” Cullen answered. “I do want to have sex with you-- with both of you-- but only if you’re comfortable with that. I think Yana jumped a bit ahead of herself.” He sent Yana a look over his shoulder, and the Inquisitor flushed, nodding sheepishly. Cullen turned back to Blackwall to find the other man studying him intently, looking for any hint of a lie. 

When he didn’t find one-- for there wasn’t one to find-- Blackwall blew out a slow breath. “I… would like to try that,” he admitted. “I don’t know how good it’ll be, but I’d like to give it a try.”

Cullen beamed at Blackwall. “Thank you,” he said. “If either of us does anything to make you uncomfortable, let us know, okay? Your comfort is important to us.”

He felt Yana approach, and the woman took a seat next to her Warden. “It is,” she agreed. “I got overexcited earlier, and I apologize for freaking you out. If you don’t want to do it tonight, if you want to wait, then that’s perfectly fine. But Cullen and I _both_ want you, and we’ll take whatever you’re willing to give, okay?”

Blackwall looked from Cullen to Yana, searching both of their expressions-- whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find, for he relaxed, nodding. “I-- Tonight is good,” he said, ears turning pink. “I want to do it tonight.”

Cullen nodded. “Tonight works for me,” he agreed; Yana nodded in agreement, resting one hand over Cullen and Blackwall’s joined ones. “Yana said that Dorian and Vivienne soundproofed her quarters; perhaps we could go there?”

”I’ve also got the biggest bed,” Yana added. Blackwall’s blush spread from his ears to his cheeks, and Cullen couldn’t help but smile-- the Warden looked absolutely adorable like this.

”Okay,” Blackwall agreed. “Tonight.”

* * *

Despite Cullen and Yana’s reassurances, Blackwall still found himself stalling until the sun had actually set behind Skyhold, the last vestiges of color leaving the sky before he headed for Yana’s quarters. On his way, he noticed Varric giving him a thumbs up, and briefly wondered why before deciding he didn’t want to know what the dwarven author had been up to. Probably betting on Blackwall’s love life or something.

He managed to slip through the door to Yana’s quarters without attracting too much attention, and slowly climbed the stairs. Just because he _wanted_ this-- wanted it so badly it was almost a need-- didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous. What if he was found lacking, somehow? What if Cullen decided that this was a mistake, that things were better the way they’d been before? The Warden tried to shove those doubts from his mind, but it was hard. Luckily, he was just outside the door, and with a deep breath, he pushes the door open.

And is promptly pounched on.

No matter what anyone else says, Blackwall will always deny that he yelped when he abruptly found himself enveleoped by familiar arms. “Maker’s balls, Yana, were you waiting to ambush me?”

Yana laughed in his ear, and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her in an embrace. “We weren’t sure you were going to show up,” she confessed. “I may have gotten a little anxious.”

Blackwall smiled, letting himself take another moment’s comfort from Yana before pulling away slightly. “So, Cullen’s already here?”

Yana nodded, pulling away but taking Blackwall’s hand in her own, leading him up the stairs. “We’ve been waiting for you,” she explained, and Blackwall paused momentarily, taking in the sight of Cullen sitting on the bed with only his breeches on. 

He swallowed before joking, “It looks like you got started without me.”

Cullen grinned, standing and movig closer to Blackwall. “I was getting hot under all that armor; you can’t blame me,” he answered, reaching for Blackwall’s free hand. “Maybe you can help me out of these breeches; I’ll help you out of your clothes.”

Blackwall could feel his ears heating. “I-- uh-- That… sounds like a deal,” he managed to stammer out.

Cullen’s grin softened into a gentle smile. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. Blackwall nodded, and watched until he nearly went cross-eyed as Cullen leaned in; then he closed his eyes, waiting for Cullen’s kiss. When it came, he felt himself relax into it, tilting his head obligingly as Cullen pressed his fingertips gently against Blackwall’s cheek.

When they parted with a soft sound, Blackwall was startled by Yana sighing and announcing, “Damn, that’s even better up close. C’mere, I want a turn.” She tugged on Blackwall’s hand, and the Warden went easily, ducking down to claim the kiss she was offering. He was distracted after a few moments by a tugging at his clothes; when he broke the kiss to see what was happening, he found Cullen fighting with the laces of his clothing.

”Having trouble?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cullen grumbled unintelligibly, making a triumphant noise as he finally got the lacing unfastened. “Ha! No, I’m not-- you tie your laces too tight.”

Blackwall rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry that I don’t want my clothes falling down around my ankles,” he quipped, the last syllable turning into a gasp when he felt Yana lean in to suck a bruise onto the side of his neck. He could feel her mouth curving into a smirk even as he saw the same expression cross Cullen’s face, and he growled slightly, tugging Cullen’s face to his so that he could kiss the smirk right off, swallowing Cullen’s gasp of surprise.

He’s dimly aware of Yana’s heat disappearing from his side, but doesn’t think anything of it, too busy exploring the Templar’s reactions to Blackwall swiping his tongue across the seam of his lips and tugging lightly on the bottom one with his teeth-- the latter gets him a reaction he wants to explore further. He can feel more than one set of hands on his clothes, but he ignores them for the moment, too focused on taking his time with Cullen, letting his hands slowly trail down over the other man’s arms, fingertips just brushing the skin as he reached Cullen’s wrists before moving inward, tracing the ridges of Cullen’s muscles as he worked his way back up, mapping out Cullen’s upper body by feel.

When Cullen tugged on his shirt, Blackwall obligingly broke the kiss long enough to lift his arms and get the material out of the way; below them, Yana was busy working his pants off, grumbling about something-- Blackwall didn’t really pay attention to what, too caught up in the kiss Cullen had stolen from him. When they broke apart again, Yana was standing up, shedding her own clothes. “On the bed,” she ordered impatiently. “C’mon, hup hup hup.”

Blackwall couldn’t help but laugh, exchanging a grin with Cullen, high on the feeling of getting everything he wanted for once. “As my lady commands,” he said, feeling only slightly ridiculous sketching out a bow while completely naked.

Both Yana and Cullen grinned at that, and when Blackwall joined them on the bed, he felt a little awkward-- they sat side by side, clearly a partnership, and Blackwall almost felt like he was intruding. Almost, until they each reached for a hand, pulling him in and between them, clearly inviting him into their world, including him without reservation. It was a nice feeling-- and a dangerous, addictive one.

”So Cullen really wants to suck your dick.”

Blackwall was startled out of his thoughts by Yana’s announcement, and he was aware of Cullen smacking himself in the forehead before shoving Yana playfully. “What did I say about you not announcing sex-related things?”

”He was getting lost in his head, and we can’t have that!” Yana defended herself, ducking behind Blackwall and using the Warden as a shield, her breasts pressed against his back. “Besides, it’s true.”

Despite himself, Blackwall felt his cock give an interested twitch; he wasn’t sure he was ready to do the same to Cullen, but he was _definitely_ willing to let Cullen suck him off. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he conceded, feeling Yana lean more heavily against him, one arm snaking around his waist to wrap a hand around his cock, stroking slowly.

”Good,” she purred in his ear; Blackwall couldn’t take his eyes from Cullen’s face, the other man’s expression almost hungry. “I want you to lay down on the bed so I can ride your face, and Cullen will be between your legs, his mouth on your cock. Does that sound good?” Blackwall could only manage a nod, and Yana pressed a kiss to the skin behind his ear. “Good boy,” she breathed, and a shudder made its way down Blackwall’s spine, heat coiling and pooling low in his gut as he scrambled to obey Yana’s suggestion.

As soon as he was situated, Yana was kneeling over his head, her pussy right over his face, and he could feel Cullen settling in between his legs; Blackwall bent his knees to give the other man a little more room before letting his hands run up Yana’s thighs to settle on her hips, guiding her down to his mouth so that he could drag his tongue up her slit in a long, drugging motion. He jerked slightly when he felt Cullen’s hand wrap around his cock, followed by a swipe of his tongue over the head, but relaxed into it, enjoying the sensations Cullen’s mouth invoked while he focused on Yana, using every trick he knew to bring her to orgasm.

Yana certainly hadn’t been lying that night when she said that Cullen was good with his mouth; the former Templar was very, _very_ good with his mouth, varying his rhythm, occasionally using just a hint of teeth, sometimes pulling back to lick and suckle just the head, stroking the rest of Blackwall’s length with his hand. Blackwall was readily approaching orgasm, but he was determined to hold off until he’d given Yana hers-- or at least, that was the plan, until Cullen rubbed the pad of one finger over the pucker of his ass, and Blackwall came with a strangled shout, orgasm completely blindsiding him.

When he came back to his senses, he blinked at the ceiling, still breathing heavily. “Oh good, he’s awake,” Yana said, voice relieved. “I thought you’d broken him.”

Cullen snorted. “Of course you’d blame me for that,” he said dryly; when Blackwall looked, he realized they were both sitting beside him, and Cullen still had a bit of Blackwall’s come at the corner of his mouth. “How are you feeling?” Cullen asked, voice gentle.

”Fucking awesome,” Blackwall said, voice still slightly breathless as he reached up to gather the come off of Cullen’s mouth with his thumb, bringing it to his own mouth and licking it off. It had a familiar taste, not quite as strong as when he bites the inside of his cheek and tastes blood. When he looked up, both Yana and Cullen were staring at him, eyes wide; Yana’s mouth was parted slightly, and he didn’t get any warning before she was on him, kissing him hard and licking into his mouth. She knocked him back onto the bed, and Blackwall wrapped an arm around her to keep her from rolling them both off of the bed. Yana jerked in his arms, and when Blackwall looked over her shoulder, he found Cullen on his knees behind Yana, one arm moving in a way that suggested he was rubbing circles over and around her clit while he kissed his way up Yana’s spine, until he was draped over Yana’s back, stealing a kiss from Blackwall before kissing the side of Yana’s neck.

”I’m going to fuck her,” Cullen said, voice low and rough. “I’m going to fuck her while you watch, Blackwall. I want you to touch her, too-- you’ve been fucking her for months, now, I’m sure you know what to do.” Blackwall nodded, suddenly needing to prove to Cullen that he could take care of Yana, that he deserved to be here.

Yana tucked her face into the crook of Blackwall’s neck, mewling as Cullen pushed inside of her, starting out with a slow rhythm. Blackwall reached between them, his fingers finding the hard little bud hidden among Yana’s folds, making her gasp and clench on Cullen, whose hips jerked in response. Blackwall smiled, pleased, setting to his task diligently, his free hand coming up to toy with one of Yana’s breasts, the thumb rubbing over her nipple, pinching it to hardness and rolling it between his fingers before doing the same to the other. Yana was caught between them, arching first into Blackwall’s touch, then Cullen’s thrusts, gasping and moaning, the sounds climbing in volume until they crested, and Yana stiffened, her body jerking as she came between them, soaking Blackwall’s lap and Cullen’s cock with her juices.

Cullen groaned, cursing, his hips snapping forward until they jerked and stilled, slumping forward over Yana and Blackwall, the latter of whom managed to get them rolled onto their sides, Yana squished between Blackwall and Cullen. “That was _awesome_ ,” Yana said happily, burrowing further between them. “Cullen, get the sheets.”

Cullen rolled his eyes, but complied; Blackwall helped him work the sheets out from under them, pulling them up over the three of them. “I pity whoever has to clean these,” Blackwall mused.

Cullen laughed, reaching for Blackwall’s hand, their joined hands resting over Yana’s hip. “Well, at least we had fun messing them up.”

Blackwall smiled softly, almost to himself. “Yes, we did.”

* * *

Dorian sidled up to Yana the next day while she was researching ways to possibly paralyze despair demons. “So, you mentioned something about Cullen and Blackwall finally sorting things out?”

Yana jumped, then glared at Dorian before rolling her eyes. “Yes, I did,” she confirmed. “We had sex last night.”

”All three of you?” Dorian asked, suddenly intensely interested.

”Yes, all three of us,” Yana repeated, smirking at the memory. “Thanks for the soundproofing, by the way.”

Dorian grinned. “Good. How did your boys handle it?”

”They loved it,” she said, grinning. “I’m not going to go into details, but it was amazing.”

Dorian beamed. “One word of advice, if they ever work up to it: Lubrication. Lots and lots of it. I can give you the name of a supplier in Orlais who makes an amazing oil that does _wonders_.”

It took Yana a moment to figure out why they’d need oil, but then it clicked, and she flushed slightly. “Oh, right. Yeah, that’d be good,” she said. “Thanks.”

Dorian smiled. “Hey, everyone deserves to have their fun.”

Yana’s grin turned back into a smirk. “Oh, we plan on having a _lot_ of fun.”

* * *

When Yana went into the tavern that afternoon, intent on grabbing a snack and a drink before going to spar with Cassandra, she was waylaid by Bull, who dragged her over to his corner of the tavern and insisted she should sit in the chair across from him. “So, I was talking to Dorian--”

Yana groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “Dorian’s a ruddy busybody, is what he is,” she muttered.

”That’d be Varric,” Bull corrected. “Him and Vivienne, they’re the ones who set up the betting pool. Anyway, Dorian said he gave you advice, and I want to give you some too. I think Cullen and Blackwall will appreciate it.” Yana sighed, waving fatalistic permission. “You know how there’s a spot inside women, bout damn makes them see stars?”

”Yeah, the g-spot,” Yana answered, nodding.

”Guys have that spot, too-- bit different location, it’s called the prostate. Just as good as the g-spot,” Bull told her, and Yana tilted her head curiously.

”Really? It’s that good?”

Bull grinned. “From the way Dorian acts…”

” _Okay!_ ” Yana yelped. “I don’t want to hear anything more, okay? I love Dorian, I love you, congrats to you two for your wonderful relationship, but I don’t want any details, okay?”

Bull laughed. “Deal,” he agreed. “It’s about three-quarters of a finger length’s up their ass, towards the front.”

Yana’s cheeks were burning, but she nodded. “Thanks, Bull. Maybe I’ll get Cullen to let me experiment on him.”

Bull grinned. “Have fun.”

* * *

Cullen was surprisingly easy to persuade; he and Yana had played around his ass before, and when Yana brought up Bull’s advice, he readily agreed. It took a few days for the oil Dorian recommended to arrive from Orlais, but it wasn’t like the three of them got bored waiting for it to arrive. But when it did, Yana invited Blackwall to come watch, and he accepted.

The three of them met in Yana’s quarters-- she really did have the biggest and most comfortable bed, and they ended up piling on it most nights. Cullen was a little nervous, because he’d never had anything up his ass before, but if that poncy Tevinter mage could do it, so could he. They spent a good while just kissing and touching each other, not really with any real aim, but just killing time and enjoying each other’s touch and company. Their clothes ended up on the floor, scattered to different corners of the room, and Cullen was the one to finally break away and say, “I’m ready.”

Yana and Blackwall exchanged heated looks, and then Blackwall scooted up the bed until he could rest against the headboard, tugging Cullen towards him and urger the younger man to lay down, pillowing his head on Blackwall’s thigh while Yana grabbed the pot off of her nightstand, settling in between Cullen’s spread legs. “I’ll go slow,” she promised. “Tell me if you want me to slow down or stop.”

Cullen nodded. “I will,” he promised. Blackwall carded the fingers of one hand through Cullen’s hair, his other hand grasping Cullen’s in a gentle, reassuring grip.

Yana smiled, pressing a kiss to the inside of Cullen’s thigh before she opened the pot, dipping her fingers in and coating them in the oil. Cullen jerked at the first touch of her slick fingers, but she didn’t do anything they hadn’t done before, just rubbing her fingers over his perineum briefly before moving back to circle his hole with two fingers; she waited until Cullen had relaxed into the touch before murmuring, “I’m going to push one in, okay?” When Cullen nodded, taking a deep breath, she followed through, carefully pressing harder against his opening wiht one finger before it slipped inside. Cullen gasped, hips shifting as he tried to decide how he felt about the intrusion-- when Yana withdrew just a little bit before pushing in again, he decided he liked it, and said so. That seemed to be the reassurance Yana needed, because she sped up her face, fucking her finger in deeper with each thrust until she was buried to the knuckle with the first finger.

When Yana withdrew her finger only to return with two, Cullen threw his head back on a gasp, feeling himself loosen around her fingers. Above him, he was dimly aware of Blackwall murmuring to him, running his fingers through his hair, but the vast majority of his attention was focused on the sensations Yana was invoking in him, pleasure rippling through his body with each thrust of her fingers. 

Then, Yana crooks her fingers just enough to brush over a certain hitherto untouched place inside of him, and Cullen’s whole body jolted. “Holy _fuck_ ,” he wheezed, made breathless by the pleasure still shivering through him.

He could hear the grin in Yana’s voice when she asked, “Do you want me to see if I can hit that spot again?”

”Maker, yes,” Cullen answered fervently. With that, Yana set to her task diligently, finding that spot-- his prostate-- again and again, massaging it lightly with her fingertips sometimes, other times dragging her fingers over it in bold strokes. The end result was that Cullen was reduced to an incoherent, babbling, writhing mess between his lovers, finally gathering enough of his wits to beg for someone to touch him, to bring him off-- and Blackwall complied. All it took was two firm strokes, and Cullen’s back was arching off of the bed as his hips jerked, coming all over his stomach, a few spots of come landing on his chest as well.

” _Damn_ , that’s beautiful,” Blackwall said, voice echoing strangely as Cullen breathed heavily, coming down from his high.

”Isn’t it?” Yana agreed, carefully easing her fingers out of Cullen’s ass, which twitched and clenched, suddenly emptied. 

”That was good,” Cullen said, interrupting whatever Blackwall had been about to say. “I want to do that again; you should try it, Blackwall.”

Blackwall’s thigh tensed under Cullen’s head briefly before relaxing. “Maybe,” he allows. “It did look like fun.”

”Oh it was more than just ‘fun,’” Cullen said happily. “Best thing I’ve ever felt.”

Blackwall and Yana chuckled at that, and Yana leaned over Cullen to lick a stripe up his stomach, gathering his come on her tongue before sharing it with Blackwall. Cullen finally gathered up the scattered remains of his mind, and decided to get started on helping everyone else come. Fair was fair, after all.

* * *

The next night was Blackwall’s turn. Like Cullen, the Warden had been a bit apprehensive, but with the support of his lovers, he soon relaxed, trusting Yana and Cullen to take care of him. To his great surprise, he found that he liked-- no, _loved_ \-- being in the middle; he also loved having his ass played with, apparently. The first time he came, Yana and Cullen both lavished attention on his cock and balls, a hand or finger occasionally straying further back to rub over his pucker-- and the second time he came, it was with his face buried in Yana’s pussy, and Cullen’s fingers in his ass. He came untouched, surprising all three of them. If the way Yana and Cullen piled on top of him was any indication, however, they liked it. A lot.

After that, they all spent an even amount of time in the middle; Yana loved being fucked while sucking the other one’s cock, Cullen liked for Yana to play with his ass while he did the same to Blackwall, and Blackwall greatly enjoyed the attention his lovers showered upon him, their reassurances and their praises.

But all good things must come to an end eventually, and Blackwall’s ending came in a report he swiped off of Leliana’s desk while the spymaster was in a war council meeting one day.

He debated over what to do, but in the end, he knew he didn’t really have a choice. He couldn’t let Mornay die, not when he could stop it. So he wrote a letter, tacked it to his workbench, saddled up his dracolisk, and left.

It’d be a lie to say he never looked back.

* * *

Yana was the one to find the note; she’d gone down by the stables to train a bit with Heir, but when she was done with that she’d gone to talk to Blackwall, to go over the Warden’s maps and figure out which camp they’d recover artifacts from next. Instead, she found a note, written in a shaky hand.

_Yana, Cullen--_

_I’m sorry for leaving while you were in a meeting, but I have to do this on my own. I’ve treasured our every moment together, and I always will, for however many days I have left. I won’t say where I’ve gone, but I will ask this: Please don’t come looking for me. There are things that I’d rather keep you both from seeing, things that would make you hate me as much as I despise myself. I’ve gone to make things right, as best I can._

_I love you both. Cowardly to say that to both of you for the first time in a letter, but I am not the brave man you both seem to think me to be. Please don’t let Leliana tell you where I’ve gone; I wish to give you both a clean break, to make things as easy as possible for you two._

_Hopefully, by the time you find this, it will be too late for you to track me down and stop me._

_I am always yours._

Yana stood there, shaking slightly as she read the letter over; eventually, she was pulled from her thoughts by the arrival of one of Leliana’s agents. “Blackwall is gone,” she confirmed. “We searched his quarters after he left; this report was all that we found to point to where he’s gone.” The agent handed Yana a crumpled report that looked like it had been swiped from Leliana’s desk. The report detailed the expected hanging of a man named Mornay, for the massacre of an Orlesian noble and his family-- including children-- several years ago.

The paper crinkled in her hand as Yana clenched it into a fist, and she gritted her teeth before snapping, “Have Master Dennet saddle my horse and Cullen’s-- we’re leaving for Val Royeaux as soon as I show him these.” The agent snapped off a salute before trotting off in search of the horsemaster, and Yana climbed the steps to Cullen’s tower, skipping several.

Blackwall did _not_ get to leave, not like that.

* * *

Cullen and Yana had ridden in silence from Skyhold to Val Royeaux, arriving in time to see a crowd gathering by the gallows. They exchanged looks, dismounting and handing their horses off to a couple of Inquisition soldiers before pushing their way close to the front of the crowd.

”Cyril Mornay, for your crimes against the Empire of Orlais, for the murders of Lord Vincent Callier, Lady Lorette Callier, their four children, and their retainers, you have been sentenced to be hanged by the neck until dead,” the guard read off of the scroll in his hand. “Have you any last words?”

Mornay stayed silent, but as the noose was lowered over his head, another, horribly familiar, voice spoke up. “Wait!”

Cullen grabbed for Yana’s hand, taking it in his own and holding on, dread filling him as Blackwall made his way up the steps. “Grey Warden,” the guard said, clearly surprised.

”This man is innocent of the crimes he is accused of,” Blackwall continued. “Orders were given, and he followed them, just as any soldier would. He should not pay for that obedience!”

”Then find me the man who gave the orders,” the guard challenged. “Thom Rainier has been missing ever since his treason.”

Blackwall’s shoulders straightened, and Cullen sucked in a breath. “Please don’t say it, please don’t say it,” he begged under his breath, but of course Blackwall couldn’t hear him.

” _I_ am Thom Rainier,” Blackwall announced; he turned to the crowd then, and Cullen felt it like a punch to the gut when the man he knew as Blackwall-- the man he _loved_ \-- found his lovers in the crowd. “I gave the orders for Lord Callier’s death, and my men followed them. They had no idea who they were killing, only that I’d told them he was a traitor. But I was the traitor.”

There were shocked murmurs surrounding them all, but Cullen didn’t hear them, too busy staring in horror at the man on the gallows. How could he have been so blind? How could they all have missed it? He didn’t hear as Black-- _Rainier_ \-- told of what had happened all those years ago, but he watched, chest aching, as Rainier was led away in chains. He was dimly aware of Yana squeezing his hand before tugging on it, leading Cullen away from the gathered crowd and towards the jail. She pulled him aside just before they reached the jail.

”If you want,” she started, “I can speak with him alone.”

Cullen considered taking her up on that offer, but he couldn’t. He needed to know, he needed to-- he didn’t know what he needed, besides that he needed to see Rainier-- see the traitor’s face for himself, to see whether this nightmare was truly real. “No,” he said after a moment. “I’ll come with you.”

Yana nodded, as if she hadn’t expected any less, and continued towards the jail, Cullen by her side.

* * *

Blackwall could hear the footsteps-- a pair of them, it sounded like-- echoing down the stairwell and approaching his cell, and his heart sank. He’d hoped-- But he’d known better. He should’ve covered his tracks better; they wouldn’t have found him then.

He focused on the floor in front of him as the footsteps drew closer, eventually stopping before the door to his cell. The dungeon was quiet, save for their breaths, until Blackwall spoke. “I didn’t take Blackwall’s life,” he started. “I traded his death. He conscripted me, but there was an ambush on our way to Weisshaupt. Darkspawn. We were overrun, and he was killed, taking the blow meant for me. I took his name to stop the world from losing a good man. But a good man, the man _he_ was, wouldn’t have let another die in his place.”

”You lied to us,” Yana said, her voice flat. Blackwall didn’t want to know what her expression looked like. “To all of us.”

Blackwall nodded, willing to take her anger-- he knew how to deal with anger. But Cullen… What Blackwall heard in Cullen’s voice broke him.

” _Why_?”

Just one word, but it held a wealth of emotion-- pain, betrayal, despair… Blackwall’s heart clenched in his chest at the sound of it, and he sucked in a breath. “Why what?” he asked, voice bitter. “Why did I order their deaths? Why did I run when I’d realized what I’d done? Why did I hide like a _fucking coward_?”

”Why don’t you just go ahead and answer them all,” Yana suggested, voice sharp.

At that, Blackwall shoved himself to his feet, expression twisted with a myriad of emotions as he slammed his hands against the bars of his cell. “Because I am a _monster_! I ordered the death of Lord Callier and his entourage, and I _knew_ that he wouldn’t be alone! I _lied_ to my men, and when everything came to light, after they were all dead, I _ran._ I left my men to pay for my crimes! They _hanged_ while I was off pretending to be a better man!”

Yana stood her ground, jaw clenched, while Blackwall ranted, but Cullen-- beautiful, loyal, smart Cullen-- took a step forward, towards Blackwall, though his hand stayed joined with Yana’s. Cullen’s expression was torn as he spoke. “You said that you’d been in one other relationship with a man, and it hadn’t ended well.”

Blackwall shook his head, his entire body slumping. “Lord Callier,” he confessed. “Another general in Celene’s army. I knew he was married, I knew he had children… But I was still a fool, and when he made it clear that our-- that we were nothing but a fling while he was away from his family, I was angry. I’d already had thoughts of leaving the army, but that… They were twisted into betrayal, and I left Celene’s army and joined Gaspard’s. I was the one to suggest the ambush on Lord Callier, using information he’d given me himself. I thought I wanted him dead. But when it was all over…” Blackwall swallowed, forehead resting against the bars. “I never wanted his children dead,” he whispered. “Or his wife. I didn’t _really_ want him dead, but I acted out of anger and hurt, and it spiraled beyond my control. My men found correspondences between Lord Callier and his wife, mentioning our relationship. I ran, and left them to take the fall.” He couldn’t look up as Cullen’s footsteps retreated, and he didn’t listen as the other two murmured amongst themselves.

”We’re not leaving you here,” Yana said after a moment. “You allied yourself with the Inquisition, and thus you are the Inquisition’s responsibility.”

Blackwall picked his head up, incredulous. “You can’t--”

Yana’s expression was cold. “I am the Inquisitor, and _you_ made yourself my problem. I will arrange for you to be transferred to our custody, and I will pass judgment on you myself.” With that, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the dungeon, Cullen on her heels, tossing Blackwall an indecipherable look over his shoulder as they left.

* * *

They sent a raven ahead to Skyhold, to Leliana, and rode back the same way they’d came, with silence clinging heavily to them. After they dismounted and took care of the horses, Cullen followed Yana to her quarters, settling onto the couch as Yana paced back and forth, muttering to herself. Eventually Cullen spoke up. “Are you going to execute him?”

Yana paused, looking at him for a moment before she shook her head. “No,” she admitted. “I-- Not just because I still love him. I’m pissed as hell at him for not trusting us with this, for lying to us, but I can’t order his death.”

Cullen nodded. “So…”

Yana sighed. “I can’t order him to keep up the lie; news will have traveled from Val Royeaux already.”

”So he becomes our prisoner, then?”

Yana shook her head, conflicted. “I don’t know,” she confessed, sinking onto the couch to lean against Cullen, who slipped an arm around her. Yana was grateful for his presence; she honestly didn’t know if she’d have been able to make this decision on her own. “I don’t think so. I can’t-- I can understand his feelings. But his actions led to the death of an entire family.”

Cullen was quiet for a moment, simply rubbing Yana’s arm soothingly until he suggested, “He’s done a lot to make up for it, however. Maybe we keep him on to keep doing that? Let him have his freedom to atone for his past?”

Yana thought that over for a moment. “It’s a thought,” she concedes. “I don’t know if it’ll be a popular decision, but… I wouldn’t feel right ordering his death, or keeping him prisoner.” She buries her face in her hands, Cullen’s hand gripping the nape of her neck gently.

”Whatever you decide, I'll support,” he said quietly. It helped.

A little

* * *

Blackwall hadn’t been surprised when some of Leliana’s agents had come to take him from the prison in Val Royeaux the day after Yana and Cullen had left. He stayed silent through the whole journey to Skyhold, a place he’d thought he would never see again. He could feel the stares of all its inhabitants on him as he was led through the gates and to the main hall, where Yana waited for him, seated on the throne made from the maw of the first dragon they’d slain. Her expression was flat, betraying nothing of whatever she might feel. He’d watched her perfect that mask over the course of many trials, and to see it turned upon him now made his chest ache in a way he’d never felt before.

Practically all of Skyhold was crammed into the main hall to witness his judgment, and Josephine read the charges off, her voice cracking only once; Yana’s expression didn’t change. But what made Blackwall feel even worse was Cullen’s expression-- the former Templar looked like he didn’t want to be here, but he needed to at the same time. His pain was yet another thing to regret.

”Thom Rainier-- by your own confession, you ordered the death of Lord Callier and his entourage, though you claim not to have known his wife and children were to be included in that entourage.” That was Yana, and Blackwall had never thought that he’d hear her speak to him that coldly. “You claim that you were conscripted by the original Warden Blackwall, and while on your way to complete your Joining, he was killed by darkspawn, and you took his identity. Do you deny these claims?”

Blackwall made himself look Yana in the eyes as he answered, “No.”

”Do you have anything else to say before judgment is rendered?”

”I asked you to leave me to my fate in Val Royeaux,” Blackwall said sharply. “I deserve to die for my crimes.” He half-expected to see her pull that ceremonial sword from behind the throne, to announce his death, but what she said next shocked him.

”You will not be executed,” Yana declared, “nor will you be the Inquisition’s prisoner. You have your freedom.”

Blackwall’s mouth dropped open in shock, and he could hear the crowd behind him echoing the sentiment. Even Cullen looked suprised by Yana’s announcement. Blackwall found his voice after a moment, demanding, “And what is the price of this freedom?”

”Simple: You have your freedom to atone for your crimes not as the traitor you thought you were, nor the Grey Warden you pretended to be, but as the man you are now,” Yana answered.

Blackwall swallowed, taking a step forward, looking from Yana to Cullen and back. “And what of us?”

Cullen looked like he was going to answer, but Yana held a hand up. “That is a discussion not for all of Skyhold to hear; we will settle that matter in private.”

Blackwall nodded, letting the soldier who stepped forward unlock his cuffs, freeing him. A glance at the throne told him that Yana wasn’t ready to speak, so he offered her a bow before leaving the hall, heading for the stables.

All he could do was wait, and hope.

* * *

He received a message from Yana that evening, instructing him to meet her and Cullen in the Inquisitor’s quarters at his convenience.

Blackwall almost tripped over himself in his haste to meet them.

When he reached the door to Yana’s quarters, he knocked, waiting with bated breath as footsteps approached. The door opened to reveal Yana, who looked him over dispassionately before gesturing for him to come in. Her manner twisted his stomach into knots, and Blackwall swallowed heavily, following her up the short flight of stairs. He found the couch turned to face the bed; Cullen was sitting on the edge of the bed, and when Yana joined him, Blackwall settled on the couch. Silence fell and reigned for several long, uncomfortable moments, but then Blackwall broke it. “You wished to speak to me?”

”Cullen wants to offer you another chance,” Yana said. “I… am undecided.”

”You lied to us,” Cullen said, voice soft and hurt. “You lied to us, and left us to be completely blindsided by what happened in Val Royeaux. Even worse, instead of simply explaining the situation, you ran off and left us with _nothing_.” Blackwall looked to the side, ashamed. “We wouldn’t have executed you on the spot, Black-- Rain--”

”Blackwall,” the false Warden said quietly. “I want to keep that name, to use it as a reminder of what I need to live up to.”

Cullen nodded. “Blackwall, then. Still, the point remains, we would have listened, and helped you.”

”I couldn’t have put that on you,” Blackwall protested.

”That’s what a relationship is _for_ ,” Yana snapped. “Andraste’s ass, Blackwall, _we love you_. We loved you before this, and Maker help us, we still love you. We thought you felt the same-- and we are all in this relationship together. Or at least we thought we were. We’re all supposed to support each other.” Her last words were said in a whisper: “I thought we were supposed to trust each other.”

Cullen’s arm slipped around Yana’s waist, and the rogue leaned into him briefly. Blackwall felt even worse, remembering how difficult Yana found it to trust people, and here he’d gone and proven her right in her caution. “Yana,” he started, helpless. “I didn’t-- I’m sorry.” He got to his feet, taking a step towards the bed, but stopped, unsure if he was welcome anymore.

Yana shoved herself off of Cullen and to her feet, staring at Blackwall intensely. “Do you mean it?” she demanded. “Are you sorry?”

Blackwall nodded, swallowing. “I am-- I never wanted to hurt you. Either of you.”

The silence stretched between them until Yana was lunging forward, wrapping her arms around Blackwall. “Don’t you ever fucking pull something like that again,” she muttered, burying her face in Blackwall’s shoulder; Blackwall returned the embrace, opening one eye to see Cullen getting to his feet and coming over to them. When Yana finally pulled back, Blackwall stepped towards Cullen, hopeful.

Cullen mirrored the movement, stepping forward to tug the older man into his arms. “Listen to Yana,” he said, voice muffled in Blackwall’s shoulder. “She’s got good ideas.”

Blackwall laughed, despite himself. “Yes, she does,” he agreed, relieved that he’s been forgiven-- even if it might only be probational, it’s more than he ever dared dream.

* * *


	11. What Pride Had Wrought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Chapter In Progress_

Things didn’t immediately go back to the way they were; honestly, Blackwall wouldn’t have known what to do of they had. Yana and Cullen both had had every reason to break things off with him completely, and by the grace of Andraste, they were willing to give him another chance, even after he’d lied to them and hidden what he’d done. Blackwall was determined not to let them down.

The rest of the Inquisition knew within a matter of hours what had happened, and who he really was-- he got more than a few dirty looks and cold shoulders, but Blackwall could deal with those. When Yana took him, Solas, and Cassandra out to the Exalted Plains for the first time after his trial, it didn’t take long before Cassandra was asking the question clearly on her mind. “Why did you do it? Why did you turn traitor?”

Blackwall stared at his dracolisk’s neck for a moment, searching for a suitable explanation. “I’m not proud of what I did, and why,” he said finally. “I switched sides for the wrong reason-- the same reason I ordered Lord Callier’s death. I’d rather not share that reason.”

”Why a Warden?” Solas asked, expression inscrutable as always. “Why not simply disappear?”

”The real Blackwall recruited me,” Blackwall answered. “He never told me why, just that he thought I’d make a good Warden. On our way to Weisshaupt, we were ambushed by darkspawn on the Storm Coast. We were overwhelmed, and for some reason that man thought I was worth taking a deathblow for. I didn’t kill him; I just traded his death. Thom Rainier died on that rainy cliffside, and I thought I was keeping the world from losing a good man.”

Solas studied Blackwall for a moment before nodding slowly and turning his attention back to his hart, who was snorting at a bird on a nearby tree. When Blackwall glanced to Cassandra, her expression was conflicted. Yana, at the head of their little convoy, didn’t even look back.

Blackwall swallowed, reminding himself that he couldn’t expect her to pay him any special attention right now-- not that he deserved it.

* * *

_Yana threw herself to the side, tucking into a roll and springing back to her feet, darting in to hamstring the behemoth as Blackwall slashed at its knees. The monstrous creature roared in pain and defiance, spinning around and knocking Blackwall to the side with its claw, sending the faux Warden flying through the air-- he crashed into a tree that hadn’t been there before, armor crunching and bones snapping. Yana felt like she was moving through a blizzard spell as she tried to reach Blackwall before the behemoth did, before it brought its claw down like a smith forging metal--_

” _Blackwall!_ ”

Yana shot bolt upright, chest heaving as she gasped for breath. Maker’s _balls_ , it had felt so real, like Blackwall was actually--

”Yana?”

Yana glanced up from where she’d buried her face in her hands, offering Blackwall a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Sorry, I just--” She took in a shuddering breath, and Blackwall’s expression softened.

”Nightmare?” he asked quietly. Yana nodded, and Blackwall seemed to hesitate before glancing over his shoulder and then back to Yana. “Would you-- do you want me to stay with you? Cassandra’s going on watch.”

Yana hesitated for a moment before nodding, scooting over on the bedroll to make room for her partner. Blackwall made his way inside carefully, settling into the bedding with her, tentatively wrapping an arm around Yana’s shoulders. The rogue sighed, letting herself sink into her warrior, taking the offered comfort as Blackwall eased them onto their backs. Yana shifted until she could throw one leg over Blackwall’s waist, slinging one arm over his stomach as well; Blackwall started running his hand up and down her back, letting his nails drag lightly against her spine. “Do you want to talk about it?” Blackwall asked quietly after several moments of silence.

Yana debated with herself for a moment before telling him. “We were fighting a behemoth; you got knocked to the side, and then… It brought down the claw, and--”

Blackwall made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat, arms tightening. “It’s just a dream,” he attempted to reassure her, but Yana smacked him in the chest before shoving herself onto one elbow.

”I know that,” she snapped. “You think I don’t? But-- dammit, Blackwall, you almost made that-- made _your death_ \-- a reality. You ran off to Val Royeaux with the intent of getting yourself hanged. Cullen and I-- we damn near rode the horses to exhaustion, even my _undead_ horse, trying to get there before it was too late. We almost didn’t make it-- if we’d been even ten minutes later, we’d have walked into the market to your body hanging from a rope. Do you know how worried we were? How fucking _horrified_ we were to realize how close we came to losing you?” Yana swiped angrily at her face, brushing away tears. “We. Fucking. _Love_. You. And we almost lost you-- So _yes_ , it’s just a dream-- but it was almost reality.”

Blackwall was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking. “I’m sorry,” he started with when he finally spoke. “I shouldn’t have acted the way I had, but-- I truly thought a clean break would be better. I didn’t expect to leave Val Royeaux alive. I didn’t stop to think how it might affect you.” He brought one gentle hand up to thumb away the tears slowly rolling down Yana’s cheeks. “I do love you-- both of you. I acted foolishly, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make it up to you.”

Yana huffed out a breath, allowing herself to settle back onto Blackwall’s chest. “I don’t know,” she sighed. “I just-- It was a hell of a blow, that you didn’t trust us-- _me_ \-- with your past. Logically, I can understand why you didn’t, but it still hurts. It’ll be a long time before it stops hurting.”

She heard Blackwall swallow, and his arm around her tightened. “I can’t really do anything except apologize for that,” he said quietly. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting that I hurt you like that, but if you’re willing to give me another chance, then I will do everything I can to make up for it.”

Yana tucked herself closer to Blackwall. “I know,” she muttered. “I just-- I don’t even know. But I believe you when you say you’re sorry.”

Blackwall let himself press a kiss to Yana’s forehead, stroking her hair. Silence fell over them, and it wasn’t long before they were both asleep.

* * *

Cullen would be lying if he said that he wasn’t relieved when both Blackwall and Yana showed up together at Skyhold when they returned from the Exalted Plains. They weren’t riding as closely as they used to before Val Royeaux, but it was better than Cullen had dared to hope. Privately, he hoped that this at least meant that they’d be comfortable with the three of them sleeping in the same bed again; Cullen had really missed waking up with both of his lovers at his sides.

Cullen met them down at the stables, accepting and returning the kiss that Yana readily offered him, but when Blackwall hesitated, obviously unsure, Cullen stepped forward to wrap one hand around the other warrior’s wrist, tugging him forward gently until Cullen could slot his lips over Blackwall’s, giving him a reassuring kiss. “You made a mistake,” he said honestly, “but everyone does. I still love you, and want you.”

Blackwall’s expression was surprised, but when Cullen didn’t take back his words, it softened into something almost shy. “Thank you,” he murmured. “And for the record, I love you, too.”

Cullen couldn’t help the grin that broke over his face, nor his next words. “So, are we all going to sleep in Yana’s bed, then?”

It was worth it for the startled laugh Blackwall let out, and the indignant squawk from Yana about how it was _her_ bed, so _she_ should be the one inviting people into it.

* * *

_Cullen frowned as he paced through the Tower’s halls-- why was he here? He was the Commander for the Inquisition, there was no reason for him to be--_

_”Cullen.” The blond whirled at the sound of a voice calling his name-- a voice whose owner was horribly familiar. “Cullen. What have you done? Look at me-- look at us.” A second figure joined the first, both twisted and grotesque in the way that abominations often were. “Look at us, Cullen-- and it’s all your fault. You didn’t take the lyrium, you couldn’t protect us. It’s all your fault that we’re going to die-- you should have taken the lyrium, Knight-Captain. You failed your brothers and sisters in the Order, you let them get killed, all because your head was turned by a pretty arse. And now the same thing’s happened to us-- and there’s nothing you can do to change it. We’re going to die-- you’re going to have to kill us, you know. You’re the only templar left; our brothers and sisters killed yours. Do you think you can do it?”_

_Cullen shook his head frantically, eyes wide as he backed away. “Yana, Blackwall-- no. No, you’re not mages, you can’t be--”_

_Both sets of eyes glinted, obsidian-shiny, as they advanced on him in slow, measured steps. “Oh but we can. And we are.”_

Cullen shot upright, throat burning on a strangled scream. He felt the bed dip on one side, and he turned to see Yana rolling over, eyes closed and face scrunched. “Cullen?” she mumbled. “What’s going on?”

Cullen blew out a heavy breath, letting himself flop back onto the bed. “Just a nightmare,” he muttered, scrubbing at his face. “Just a nightmare; don’t worry about me.”

He felt Yana prop herself on her elbow, and on his other side, someone who could only be Blackwall did the same. “I thought the nightmares had stopped,” Blackwall said with a frown clearly shadowing his voice. “You haven’t had them in months.”

Something about that didn’t sound right--

”Not since the whole Inquisition started taking the red lyrium, anyway,” Yana added, and Cullen’s eyes flew open.

” _What?_ ”

”Don’t you remember?” Blackwall asked, laying a hand on Cullen’s upper arm, drawing the other man’s gaze. Cullen sucked in a horrified breath, jerking away as he caught sight of the red bleeding from Blackwall’s eyes into the cracks along his skin. “We all started taking it.”

”If you can’t beat them, join them,” Yana added, and her face was just as bad when Cullen looked to her. “It was your idea, love-- you should remember. We couldn’t beat Corypheus, so we joined him. Thedas is ours, now. And it’s all thanks to you.”

* * *

” _No!_ ”

”Oh thank the Maker, he’s awake now.” Cullen scrambled back, pressing himself against the headboard; it took him far too long to realize that this time was real; he wasn’t in a dream, and that Blackwall and Yana were looking at him with worried-- but blessedly _normal_ \-- expressions. “Cullen? Cullen, talk to us, love.”

That was Yana, but Cullen couldn’t speak-- and when he tried, he burst into tears, sobs wracking his body. He was dimly aware of being surrounded on both sides and being manhandled until he was pressed up against a broad chest-- Blackwall’s-- with Yana massaging his shoulders and arms as he sobbed, choking out an explanation. Their worry was a palpable thing, but gradually the comfort of their presence and their whispered reassurances settled him, and his sobs subsided into hiccups.

None of them said anything for a while, just lying there holding each other while Cullen calmed down. Eventually, they slid onto their sides, Yana and Blackwall sandwiching Cullen between them, their arms wrapped around him, both pressing gentle kisses to his nape and forehead. “We’re here,” Yana murmured, branding the words into the skin of his neck and shoulder. “We’re here for you, Cullen.” Blackwall echoed the sentiment at Cullen’s front, breathing the words like a caress over his temple.

It was a long time before any of them fell asleep again.

* * *

After that, none of them felt comfortable sleeping alone. Cullen was still plagued by nightmares of all kinds, containing all sorts of scenarios, and Yana still watched Blackall die almost every night in her dreams-- and Blackwall had the odd nightmare himself, too. Usually of watching from one of the balcony above the Summer Bazaar as Yana and Cullen arrived too late, finding a cloth figure of himself swinging from a rope, but when Blackwall tried to go to them, to tell them it wasn’t real, that he was still alive, then he found himself either surrounded by the people he’d ordered killed, or his point of view jumped until he could all but feel the rope burning his neck, Yana and Cullen on their knees before him, holding each other.

It was a rare night when none of them woke gasping in terror.

Though they all slept in the same bed, sex wasn’t brought back into their relationship for a few weeks-- not until Yana woke one night after the worst nightmare yet, where she’d been the one to pull the lever to drop the floor from underneath Blackwall, hanging him herself. Needing reassurance that Blackwall was alive, that she hadn’t killed him, had turned into heat coiling low in her gut and clothes being shed until she was sliding onto him, riding the older man slowly, savoring the slight sting of a too-quick penetration as proof that this was _real_.

After that, they relearned how to be in a physical relationship as well as an emotional one-- _that_ was far easier than they’d expected; kisses exchanged in passing, orgasms shared beneath the sheets, it was a rhythm they’d never forgotten, and came back to them quickly and easily.

* * *

It wasn’t long after that that Morrigan asked Yana to gather the advisors; she thought she knew where Corypheus was heading. Yana did, and when they were all gathered, she turned to Morrigan. “So, you said you believe you know where Corypheus is heading?”

Morrigan nodded. “Yes-- I believe that he is heading for the Arbor Wilds; have you heard of Eluvians?”

Yana frowned slightly. “Magical mirrors, or something like that, aren’t they?”

Morrigan’s expression was unimpressed. “They are more than that-- they lead to a place that I call the Crossroads. The ancient elves used them to move across Thedas, but few Eluvians remained intact. I managed to find one, but there is another, located within a temple in the Arbor Wilds. I believe that is where Corypheus is headed.”

Yana frowned. “Why would he want this Eluvian?”

”The Crossroads is not the Fade, but it is close. With the power Corypheus wields, he could rip a hole through the fabric of the Crossroads, and enter the Fade in the flesh, as he intended to do with your anchor.”

”So he wants the Eluvian, and will do anything to get it,” Leliana summarized.

Morrigan nodded, and Yana squared her shoulders. “Then we get there first,” she decided. “We’ve already found plans that Corypheus intends to make Samson some sort of Vessel; I’m willing to bet whatever Samson’s going to hold is going to be found in this temple.”

”And how are we going to do that?” Josephine asked. “There’s no way we can gather our allies in time, and Cullen’s forces are too large to move quickly.”

”Leliana, can you get some scouts there quickly?” Yana asked; when the spymaster nodded, Yana continued, “Then use them to harass and slow Corypheus’s forces as much as possible, and buy us as much time as you can for Cullen’s forces and our allies to get there. If we can’t get to this temple before Corypheus, then let’s follow right on his heels.”

* * *

Blackwall insisted on coming along with Yana, and Yana honestly didn’t put up that much of a fight. In the end, it was Blackwall, Bull, and Dorian who accompanied Yana to the temple; the rest of the companions stayed with the majority of the Inquisition’s forces, bolstering them.

Blackwall, Yana, and Cullen shared a moment before two of them left to push through to the temple. “We’ll be careful,” Yana promised, tucked under Cullen’s arm on one side; Cullen was leaning against Blackwall, his free arm wrapped around the other warrior’s waist.

”We need to stop Corypheus,” Cullen muttered, head resting on Blackwall’s shoulder, “but I wish that didn’t mean putting you two in the line of fire.”

”This is our job,” Blackwall reminded him gently. “And besides, we’ll have each other’s backs. That’s why I insisted on going with her.”

Yana reached around Cullen to flick Blackwall’s beard. “That’s why I’m _letting_ you come with me,” she corrected, though her voice was clearly teasing. There was a call from behind them, and Yana leaned in for a kiss from Cullen before pulling away. “All right, we need to go. You keep the soldiers motivated, you hear?”

Cullen laughed, though it was weak. “Yeah, yeah I hear. We’ll do our best.”

Blackwall got a kiss too, murmuring reassurances to the commander before he steps up next to Yana. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

* * *

It wasn’t easy, fighting through the red templars-- and a few of the Wardens who had been enslaved at Adamant-- to reach the temple, but they managed. Some of the Inquisition soldiers had a crate of health potions ready and waiting for them, and they quickly healed and resupplied before continuing on. Emerging from a long tunnel, Yana and her companions hid behind a bannister as they watched Corypheus attempt to intimidate some of the strange elves-- and when that didn’t work, Corypheus started forward, only to be caught in some sort of ancient trap that fried him to ash, destroying the trap in the process. But Corypheus didn’t stay dead for long; like an Archdemon, his soul appeared to have traveled to the nearest Blighted creature, and he twisted the body back into his own form. Halfway across the bridge, the group realized this; with no trap to destroy him again, Corypheus passed easily, and even called down his dragon. 

” _Everyone run!_ ” Yana ordered, shoving at Dorian’s shoulder to get the frozen mage to move. “Go, go _go!_ ”

She and Blackwall brought up the rear, the entire group bolting through the doors to the temple and managing to slam the doors shut just in time to save them from a blast of energy-- as soon as the doors were shut, a barrier sprang up, preventing the doors from opening again. Yana and Blackwall backed away slowly, looking over their group. “Holy shit,” Blackwall breathed, summarizing Yana’s thoughts perfectly. “How the _hell_ did he do that?”

”Corypheus _is_ the first darkspawn,” Morrigan mused as they made their way down the entryway towards a courtyard. “Perhaps his soul is like that of an archdemon-- when his body is destroyed, it passes to the nearest Blighted creature, darkspawn or Grey Warden.”

Blackwall paled a bit beneath the beard. “Well, can’t say I’m not glad for the first time that I’m not a Joined Warden,” he muttered, and Yana gave his shoulder a squeeze.

”Come on; let’s just focus on finding Samson, yeah?”

Blackwall nodded, giving Yana a grateful smile. They continued into the courtyard, approaching a large stone structure; Morrigan walked onto it, Yana at her side, and they both jumped when the stone tile they stepped on lit up and chimed beneath their feet. They exchanged glances, but Morrigan’s gaze was drawn to the stone pillar before them. “It’s ancient elvish,” she announced, stepping closer to study it more intently. “It mentions the ‘place where sorrow dwells’. There is also something about knowledge; respectful or pure. _Shiven, shivennen…_ ” She glanced to Yana with a shrug. “Tis all I can translate. That it mentions the Well is a good omen.”

Yana nodded. “Now all we need to do is get into that temple and stop Samson from gaining the Well,” she said. “Easy-peasy. I hope.”

Morrigan glanced at the tile beneath their feet, expression pondering. “This is a temple to Mythal; supplicants would first have paid obeisance to open the doors. Following their path may aid ours.”

Yana glanced at the tile, taking a step to the side to crane her neck to see around the stone pillar. “So… What would we do? Just… step on all the tiles and light them up?”

”It would appear so,” Morrigan agreed. “Perhaps attempt to find a way to cover them all without repeating a tile?”

Yana studied the layout before taking a step to the left, leaving the previous tile for the next, which lit up beneath her feet. Her steps were measured, careful, and she made sure to pause frequently to make sure she didn’t misstep. She was rewarded by every panel lit up, glowing blue and gold, and a bell tolling from inside the temple as the barrier around the doors to the temple’s entrance falling. “Well, that worked,” Yana said, relieved. “Come on; we need to catch up to Samson.”

* * *

They found Samson in the very next chamber; he and several of the red templars blew a hole through the floor of the temple, opening it to the caverns below. Samson ordered the red templars to attack Yana and her companions, but by now they had a well-proven strategy for dealing with red templars, and it didn’t take long before the group was bolting for the hole-- only to be stopped by Morrigan. “Wait!”

”Morrigan, you know why we’re here--”

”And I also know that this is sacred ground,” Morrigan snapped. “We should follow the rites of petition; they will let us into the next chamber, where our true destination lies.”

”Our ‘destination’ is Samson’s death,” Yana growled. 

”And we can get there faster if we walk the petitioner’s path,” Morrigan countered. “That will let us straight through the temple, without having to navigate what is sure to be a maze of tunnels.”

”People are dying out there,” Bull pointed out. “We can’t waste time on ‘maybes.’”

Yana hesitated. “People are dying anyway, no matter which path we take,” she said after a moment. “Fine. Let’s complete these rites, but Andraste help you if we’re too late, Morrigan.”

Morrigan tilted her head before leading the way to the first test. There were three in total, different versions of the test that had opened the temple doors; none of them were particularly hard, and soon enough they were racing for the door to the next chamber, letting out a collective sigh of relief when it opened easily for them. Only a few steps into the room, however, brought the hairs on the back of Yana’s neck to a stand. “We’re not alone,” she said abruptly, just as elves-- the same as the ones on the bridge earlier-- seemed to pour from every shadow.

On the ledge above them, one appeared-- one who seemed to be the leader of these elves. “Who are you?” he asked, arms crossed over his chest. “You are not like the others who have defiled our sanctuary.”

”They are servants of an ancient evil, and our common enemy,” Yana said, taking a step forward but pausing when she caught sight of several bows being raised. 

The elf studied the gathered humans closely. “My name is Abelas,” he said after several moments. “You have shown respect to Mythal-- but we cannot allow the Vir’Abelasan to fall into anyone else’s hands. We will help you defeat these intruders, and in return you leave the Well alone and you leave this place-- never to return.”

Morrigan was whispering to her, but Yana shrugged her off. “You will help us defeat Samson and the red templars?”

Abelas inclined his head in agreement. “This Samson, he is the leader? He has already progressed far through the temple; one of ours will guide you through to meet him while the others battle his minions.”

”I agree to your terms,” Yana decided. “We will leave the Well alone in exchange for your help.”

”Good. The Vir’Abelasan will not fall into human hands, even if I must destroy it myself.”

” _No!_ ” Morrigan cried, lunging forward-- before Yana could stop her, she shifted into a raven, disappearing with a flap of wings and a screech.

”Shit,” Yana hissed.

”Let’s go,” Blackwall said, laying a hand on Yana’s shoulder; when the Inquisitor looked to her lover, he gestured towards where one of the other elves was waiting for them.

Yana sighed. “Right, yeah. Let’s go. we’ve got bigger problems to worry about.”

* * *

It was a simple enough matter to follow the strange elf through the temple; Yana got sidetracked a couple of times, examining mosaics and some strange glyphs on the walls, but that didn’t slow them down much. They reached the last group of elves in time to slaughter a few red templars, and with a last salute, Yana was leading her group down the hall and through the doors.

The sight that greeted them was breathtaking: Practically undisturbed forest surrounding a hill, at the top of which Yana could see the Eluvian that Morrigan had spoke of-- but at the bottom of the hill was Samson and a few templars. Yana bared her teeth, growling. “C’mon,” she snapped, leading the way down the stairs.

They rounded the corner to Samson praising his red templars; when one of them alerted Samson to the Inquisitor’s presence, the former templar turned on them with a smirk. “You’ve come a damned long way; we come to the back end of nowhere, and here you are.”

”What can I say, my job takes me to interesting places,” Yana snarked.

”You’re too late,” Samson announced. “Corypheus chose me twice-- first as his general, and now as the Vessel. I will help him ascend to his rightful place. You know what’s inside the Well? Wisdom. The kind of wisdom that will allow Corypheus to walk the Fade without your precious anchor.”

”Yeah, well, too bad you won’t live to give it to him,” Yana said, sighing in mock-disappointment. “He’ll be terribly cut up about it, I’m sure.”

Samson’s smirk grew, and he smashed his fists together, rolling his shoulders as his armor started to grow the eerie red of red lyrium. “The Chantry’s lyrium was good for something, Inquisitor. I am a walking fortress, body and mind. You cannot best the power of red lyrium-- the power of a _god_.”

Yana raised one eyebrow, reaching into her pouch to remove the rune Dagna had given her all those weeks ago. “You sure about that?” she taunted. “Ten sovereigns says that this little charm breaks your armor like weak iron.” One push of her thumb aligned the last, movable piece that Dagna had incorporated to keep the rune inactive, and the rune came to life, flashing bright red.

Samson cried out in shock and pain, crumpling to his knees as his armor fractured around him. “What-- What did you _do_?”

Yana raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you remember Maddox? Did you know that he and every other templar who stayed behind decided to sacrifice themselves to save you? Maddox didn’t get to finish destroying his research, and our arcanist is quite the genius. Your armor is useless, Samson-- you’re nothing more than any regular warrior now. And you’ll die just like they do.”

* * *

In the end, Samson didn’t die-- but he was _definitely_ out for the count. Yana produced some rope from her pack and trussed him up good and tight, leaving him for the Inquisition’s soldiers to collect and send to Skyhold for judgment. “Inquisitor!” Dorian shouted-- Yana followed his finger to find Abelas racing for the top of the stairs, and Yana took off after him, her companions on her heels.

Morrigan arrived then, landing in front of Abelas and barring his path as Yana reached the top of the steps. “You heard him, Inquisitor,” she said haughtily. “He means to destroy the Well.”

”If it means keeping it from the likes of you, then yes,” Abelas snapped, glaring at Morrigan. “We had a deal, human.”

”And I intend to honor it,” Yana said firmly. “Morrigan, we have what we came for-- Samson is taken care of, and Corypheus will not gain the power of the Well. We are finished here.”

”Can you truly afford to leave this power, this _knowledge_?” Morrigan argued. “Corypheus is _immortal._ How do you intend to defeat him? The Well could hold the knowledge needed to do so.”

”You do not know what you would interfere with,” Abelas broke in, gesturing to the Well. “The Vir’Abelasan is more than just collected water-- as each servant of Mythal reached the end of their life, they passed their knowledge, _themself_ , into the Well. The Vir’Abelasan is the collected will and minds of the priests of Mythal. Whoever drinks of the Well shall be bound to the will of Mythal.”

”Bound?” Yana asked sharply as Morrigan snorted.

”Bound? To a goddess who no longer exists, if she ever did?”

”Bound, as we are bound,” Abelas answered; he glanced to the Well, seeming to debate with himself for several long moments before nodding. “So be it. You have shown respect to Mythal, and you have shown that you would honor your bargain-- and there is a righteousness in you that I cannot deny. Is that your wish, then? To partake of the Vir’Abelasan as well as you are able?”

Yana hesitated-- but Morrigan had had a point, earlier. “Yes; but only if you allow it.”

”It is not up to me to allow it,” Abelas said simply. “Very well then. Take the Vir’Abelasan, but do not forget the price.”

* * *


End file.
